Complicated
by Enigmaeneel
Summary: Follow this journey of the complicated lives and relationship of Draco Malfoy and Harry potter while facing everyday life including Dracos father. Will it be worth it in the end?
1. Unexpected

Life could have been better. But then again, Harry supposed it could have been much, much worse.

True, he had to forget his dream of becoming an Auror.

True, he had been diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder.

And true, he still had to sort his shit out, find a new goal for his life. He had always been task-oriented and he needed to follow a direction.

Yet, he didn't have to care about money.

He had a family who was trying to support him.

And after his failure with West Point, he had enrolled in college, even if it was two years later than usual.

It was always better to focus on the positive aspects of one's life, but the eagle with a rifle inked on his skin, and the two rounds of meds he had to take each day, were a constant reminder that life was not peachy as he would have liked to believe.

Harry had started college almost five months ago, deciding that; fuck it, the Ministry didn't want him? He was going to follow them anyway. He could no longer be an auror, but he could still get to the front lines of battle as a war reporter. His family was not happy with his decision, too many triggers for him on a job like that, but Harry wanted at least to try. At least in the next four years he could come to understand himself, what he was capable of, and what his limits were.

London was cold as fuck in December but he didn't really mind. Actually, breathing the chilly air and feeling his face freezing was a nicer sensation than being suffocated inside a class full of students.

He walked through the Hogwarts campus, swinging a left, then right, and opening the door where his potions class would be starting in a few minutes. He looked around and noticed two waving hands on the left wing. Harry smiled at the two guys when he took the seat next to them.

"Thanks for saving me a seat," he murmured as he pulled his notebook out of his bag.

"Yeah we didn't want your perfect ass too far from us," replied Seamus, the blonde closest to him, in his usual flirty tone. "By the way, you look gorgeous in that shirt."

Seamus softly touched Harry's clothed chest, causing him to roll his eyes. Sometimes he found Seamus too gay for his own taste, but he was a good friend. The other guy, Dean, was too. Except for those death glares he would send in Harry's direction whenever Seamus was flirting with him. _Like now ._

"Hey," Dean just said in greeting. Harry replied in the same manner

The professor entered the room, walking towards the blackboard. His brown eyes glanced up and found Harry's, before moving them to assess the whole class. Nobody was paying attention to him. As usual.

"Ok, guys. The lesson is starting…" began Snape.

Nothing. The chattering of the student body continued.

"I would really appreciated if once you could just be silent…"

Nope.

"C'mon… Not every time!"

A loud whistle caused the much desired silence. But it wasn't Professor Snape who had emitted the piercing sound. The whistle came from the left wing, and the professor turned his face to find Harry winking at him.

The professor coughed hastily to cover his dumb smile and, now the center of the attention, started his lesson.

The professor was putting his papers back in his briefcase so slowly, that if someone actually bothered to pay him any attention, they would have thought he was retarded.

Not Harry, though.

He headed out of the classroom, then told his friends he had left a pen there. He hastily made plans to meet them for lunch and went back.

The classroom was empty except for the professor.

"Professor Snape," Harry said in a husky voice, approaching the man behind the desk.

The professor smiled at the address and closed the distance between the two of them.

"You know, you can call me by my name when we're alone," he said in the same low tone, putting his forearms on Harry's shoulders. One hand gently curling the student's brown hair.

"Severus."

Harry leaned in to kiss him. A soft kiss. An affectionate one.

They had started their affair two months prior. It was a little difficult for Harry to ignore those languid, long stares in his direction from the professor during the lesson. Normally, a guy like Severus wouldn't have stood a chance with someone like Harry. Circumstances where different now, though. Harry had been on meds for a little more than a year and during that time he hadn't tried to fuck anyone. He loved sex as a teenager and had become reckless when his bipolar symptoms had kicked in. After starting with the treatment, he was scared to have sex again. Not the act itself per se, but the fact that sex was one of his biggest triggers. The months passed in full mania had been filled with unprotected sex, participation in porn and blackouts caused by heavy drugs, making him wake up with pain in his groin and fuzzy memories laced with shame.

Harry stayed celibate until he met Severus. The professor was not hot and not even remotely funny, but he was nice, ordinary, and faithful. Well, as long as it's possible to define a gay married man with kids and a lover faithful. Even in this situation, Severus was steady. Fucking him was not mind blowing, but it was enjoyable Safe.

It wasn't bad.

The sound of the door opening made the two of them jump away from each other.

A guy they both recognized strolled in confidently, and they both froze.

The dark-haired intruder smirked, looking them up and down slowly.

"Hey, Bat man. Potter…" He grinned obnoxiously.

"What do you need Malfoy?" Severus replied, composing himself.

"Nothing from you. Yet." He nodded towards the higher seats "Just wanna nap here. No lesson for the next hour."

Severus relaxed, and picked up his folders and bag, gingerly leaving the room. Harry stood awkwardly, alone with the guy. He watched as the guy went up to the seats at the back of the room. _How the hell did someone with so much money dress like a homeless person?_ He thought distastefully. Harry knew it was pretty gay of him to think that, but really, that brownish sweater was horrible. It looked like he had been wearing it for years.

"The fuck are you looking at?"

The blond-haired guy had noticed Harry studying him, and was now looking at him with his eyebrows arched. He had the most expressive eyebrows Harry had ever seen. Swear to God.

"Nothing, Draco." Harry shrugged, turning his gaze away from him.

"Well, then fuck off." Draco motioned for Harry to go with the flip of his middle finger.

When Harry was almost at the door, Draco called out after him.

"Ay, remember, Potter. You make my sister cry, I'll fucking kill you."

Harry just rolled his eyes, nodded and closed the door behind him.

Severus may have had a wife, but Harry had a girlfriend.

Well, a beard, to be precise.

He had met Lyra Malfoy at the end of an English class. The assistant professor had cornered the blonde-haired girl to "talk about Shakespeare" and she looked as uncomfortable as shit at his attention, as he stood too close to her.

Since apparently Harry couldn't escape from his White Knight side of him, he stepped in.

"C'mon, we're late for the next class, let's go!" He said loudly, shouldering past the AP and taking her by the arm and pulling her from the room.

She was confused and upset by his attention at first, but she soon smiled and thanked him. Not exactly for the reason he thought, though. She had been about to kick the bastard in the nuts before Harry approached, and she had feared it would not have been good to do that to an assistant professor.

"So yeah, your solution was way better," she told him before extending her hand with a grateful smirk.

"Lyra."

"Harry."

She quickly became attached to Harry and he thought he had just acquired a new friend.

Wrong.

She invited him in her room to study and, while both were sitting on her bed, she got up and straddled him, trying to push into him for a kiss, and palming him through his pants.

Harry was so dense with understanding girls that he sat up quickly to rebuff her, making Lyra fall on her ass.

He was about to open his mouth when she screamed.

"GET THE FUCK OUT!"

"Let me just explain…" he tried to say, holding his hands up towards her.

Lyra threw him a high heels boot at his face with a force he didn't think a girl could possess.

He backed out of her door quickly, shrugging in disbelief as he turned and walked away.

The next morning he was prepared to track Lyra down to explain himself. What he was not prepared for was the three guys coming at him with two bats and brass knuckles.

They spotted the redhead easily in the middle of the campus quad, and the short one in the center yelled at him

"Harry Potter! You messed with the wrong girl!"

Harry didn't know who the fuck they were, but sure as hell he didn't want to find out.

He turned on his heel and started running instinctively. The three guys were visibly strong, but not that fast, and Harry outran them with ease. He lost them after the first couple of minutes, slumping against a wall as he collected his thoughts. _T_ _he fuck had just happened?_

There was only one possible explanation.

Lyra.

He found the girl at the entrance to her dorm, and he had to grab her by her hand to stop her from walking away from him.

"What the fuck do you want!" Lyra spat at him angrily.

"What the fuck do I want? Didn't you send me your three gorillas to beat the shit out of me? What the hell, Lyra!" He retorted roughly.

"You played me! I thought you were interested and…"

"I'm gay." Harry interrupted her quietly.

Lyra's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"What?"

"Gay, completely, helplessly gay. You're beautiful Lyra, but not my type." He replied calmly.

"You think I'm beautiful?" she asked after a few seconds.

"Of course. Listen… Can we just keep on being friends? After you call your gorillas back, of course."

She smiled a little at that.

"They're not my gorillas. Well, one's my brother. He's kind of a gorilla, I guess. The other two are his fucking puppies. They pledged to his fraternity, so…"

The two of them became best friends. Harry was surprised at how quickly he felt at ease around Lyra; he even told her about his disorder, and his affair with Severus. Lyra always listened without prejudice, and she shared her own stories about her family and especially her piece of shit father., Harry had always thought that his Father, James, was the worst, but he was wrong. James was a drunk and a horrible human being, but her father was a monster of an entirely new level. He was abusive, manipulative, violent. He was part of a White Supremacy group. His first wife divorced him after he had sent her to a hospital left for dead. His last wife, Lyra and Draco's mother, killed herself. Lucius had already decided the future of his boys, and he didn't really care about his only daughter.

"As long as I score a husband with money and connections, I can do whatever I want. I guess I should consider myself lucky," she said in a low voice. Harry hugged her tightly in response.

It was after only a few days of their new friendship that Lyra brought up the subject.

"I want you to be my boyfriend."

"Lyra, I thought we've already cleared up that I'm gay." Harry replied with a surprised smile.

"Yeah I know but… last night a guy was fag-bashed outside his own dorm. And… and if you keep on being friends with me I don't wanna risk Draco suspecting that you're gay, he'll fucking kill you, Harry. Not to mention that your relationship with Severus would go a lot smoother. He has a wife, you have a girlfriend… easier, right?"

Harry stayed silent for a few minutes while he thought about Lyra's words. He wasn't keeping his sexuality secret, but he wasn't advertising it either. Being raised in Tottenham taught him to think twice before announcing he was into dudes… Still, he hadn't planned on being afraid of who he was at university.

"I can see how this would benefit me," he said finally. "But why should you sacrifice yourself?"

Lyra blushed a little, fiddling with a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Well, nothing much… I mean. These last few days, you've felt more of a boyfriend than any other guy I've been out with. It's nice, you know? You're nice. I'm tired of guys who are after my money or just wanna get under my skirt. I like spending time with you, so…"

That's when it hit him. Lyra needed him. She felt alone, and she wanted to rely on someone who was not family; someone she trusted. Again, the knight in shining armour prevailed.

"I still think you're the one at loss in this deal, but yeah. Why not, girlfriend? Let's do this."

The smile that Harry received for that simple sentence, made him sure he had made the right choice.

Inside Professor Snape's small office, Harry was pulling up his pants, looking down at the man kneeled in front of him. Severus wiped his mouth with an embroidered handkerchief and got up to lean on his messy desk.

"So..." Severus started. Before he could complete his sentence, the door slammed open.

"Over Grown Bat!" Draco exclaimed.

"Malfoy, uh…"

Severus got interrupted –again- when Draco noticed a red flushed Harry.

"Potter? What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Uh… just asking questions?" Harry knew he didn't sound convincing, but it didn't seem like Draco cared.

"Yeah, whatever, nerd. Get the fuck out." Harry stood in place for a few seconds, looking at Severus for direction. When the other man nodded, he slowly left the room. Fearing for Severus, however, he didn't go far, planting his ear to the door so he could listen to their exchange.

"So," Draco redirected his attention to Severus. "Just wanted to check if our deal was still on. I noticed you've been avoiding me lately."

Severus gulped, nervously shuffling some papers on his desk.

"Uh…" He sighed heavily. "I can't do this anymore Malfoy. It's too risky."

"Risky? You just need to make me fucking pass your stupid exam. It doesn't take that much, man!"

"I've been doing this for years already… Some of the other professors are starting to notice, making some remarks and… my wife is pregnant again. I can't afford to lose my job."

"It was your wife's job before you decided it was better for her to be a stay at home mum, so you could have your little fun here." Draco moved closer to Severus. The student was shorter than Severus, but stocky and menacing. Severus was almost climbing the desk to put some space between him and Draco.

"Don't forget you got paid for this shit," Draco added threateningly.

"I only got paid the first time…"

"Well, you took the money, you greedy bitch. So…" Draco's eyes fell from Severus's to his laptop. The screen was on again, Severus having moved the mouse by mistake in his urge to back away from Draco. The grin that spread all over the Malfoy's face was wider than the Cheshire Cat's.

"Lookie what we got here." He leaned to read the open file. "Isn't this… Uh-oh."

"Malfoy, please don't…"

There was a USB drive inserted in the laptop, and in a few little clicks from Draco, the file was saved on the flash drive.

"Too late, Bat man." Draco stuffed the flash drive in his right pocket and shoved Severus against the wall. "I guess you've already submitted the exam. So don't even try to make things complicated. Okay? You won't even need to upgrade my sheets this time. All for the best, right?"

Severus didn't say anything, lowering his head as Draco patted his shoulder.

"Bye! Always a pleasure to deal with your greasy ass."

When Draco opened the door, Harry had just a few seconds time to hide behind a fucking statue. He was definitely glad that Draco went the other way, or the statue wouldn't have been the safest place to hide.

Harry went back into the office to find Severus slumped on the chair, hands covering his face.

"What the fuck, Severus?!"

Severus looked up to see Harry looking at him in disbelief.

"I heard everything!" Harry growled. "You just let him cheat like that? You're gonna get in trouble!"

"You don't understand…"

"Oh no, I do understand. Don't you have some pride? You got bribed once and now you're at his service?"

Severus couldn't look into his eyes. He was fidgeting on the chair, searching for an acceptable excuse .

"C'mon Harry. It's no big deal. He'll graduate this year… and I mean, other professors got bribed by that family, I'm sure. Don't know who for sure, but…"

When he managed to find the strength to look Harry in the eyes again, he found an expression that he never seen in them: disgust.

"God, Severus. You're such a pussy."

And with that, Harry stormed out of the office.

The following day, Harry stood nervously in front of the Slytherin common roo, Draco's house. The place looked uninhabited. No one was outside and silence reigned. One would almost think it was deserted, if not for all the sleepy bodies sprawled around the immense living room. Most appeared to be in zombie mode, the heads moving imperceptibly and croaky sounds coming from their mouths. There were kegs on the floor and plastic glasses keeping them company. The smell of weed entered Harry's nostrils.

He looked around the messy room for Draco, but apparently he hadn't participated in the party. Either that, or he simply he wasn't there.

Harry decided to risk it and went upstairs.

He barely opened each door he found, only pushing them aside enough to peek at the rooms inside. They were all bedrooms. Some with double beds, other single ones.

At the fifth door, the one in the corner, he finally found what –or rather who- he was looking for.

It was probably the biggest bedroom there, with a queen size bed and lot of space filled with all kind of mess: clothes, beer cans, empty packets of cigarettes and many other pieces of useless junk. Harry wondered how someone in their right mental state could voluntarily live in that pig sty. It even smelled like dirty socks.

Draco was there on the bed, sprawled on his stomach amongst messy blankets and half-covered pillows. Fully clothed and still wearing his shoes. He probably had had just enough time to crawl into his bed before passing out.

Well, time to wake Sleeping fucking Beauty up.

Harry grabbed a bat that was lying on the floor near his feet. He seriously doubted that it had ever been used in an actual game.

He prodded Draco lightly with the tip of the bat, causing the comatose man to shift on the bed with a groan.

"The fuck…"

Draco wrenched open his eyes and looked at his surroundings without really focusing on anything in particular. He was about to yawn, when he noticed Harry, bat in hand.

"… Potter?" he asked in surprise. His voice was groggy with sleep.

"Give me the flash drive, Draco," Harry managed to say. He was the one with the bat. But he was also in Draco's bedroom, with all Draco's house brothers downstairs. He just wanted to solve this quickly; get the flash drive and get the hell out of there.

Scrubbing at his eyes with his fist, Draco nodded slowly.

"Alright…" He moved towards the bedside table, murmuring "What is it to you anyway?"

Before Harry could come up with an answer, Draco took him by surprise, punching him straight to the face. Taking advantage of his adversary's loss of balance, Draco managed to throw him on the bed. During the movement the bat flew loose from Harry's hands, landing somewhere in the tangled sheets.

Draco moved to straddle Harry, ready to strangle his neck, but Harry used all his weight as a leverage and managed to throw the both of them out of the bed, pushing Draco onto the sofa. But the Slytherin was fast, and charged towards Harry with his fist. Harry slammed him against the wall before he could get punched again. Draco looked at him like a wounded bull stares at the red flag, and tackled Harry with all his strength onto the bed. He straddled him again, this time fetching the bat to smash his fucking stupid head in.

He would have done it, really.

But the adrenaline rush went straight to his dick, causing an immediate, growing bulge in his pants. It didn't go unnoticed. Harry looked straight at it, then to Draco, who was panting hard and not just from the fight. Harry looked back at Draco's his groin again. Draco was daring him to say something, anything, wrong. He was ready to crack Harry's head like a watermelon. But the fucking wanker didn't say anything, not a fucking word. Instead, Harry's green eyes darkened and his breath took up an irregular pattern.

It wasn't long before Draco let the bat fall on the floor, starting to tug off his clothes swiftly. Harry followed his movements, yanking off his own clothes as quickly as he could.

Soon they were both stark naked in front of each other. Draco gnawed at his bottom lip, taking the sight of Harry in. It was clear that he liked what he was seeing. He took Harry by surprise, slamming him back again onto the bed. This time his intentions were very different.

He hovered over Harry, fumbling in the first drawer of his night table. He shuffled through it, taking out a bunch of condoms and tossing them to Harry, keeping a small bottle of lube in his hands.

Harry noticed the condoms were all different in type and size. It was pretty clear that they weren't meant for Draco, not all of them at least. His thoughts flicked over to Severus at the momentary realization that this, here with Draco, was not a stable situation, and probably something he should avoid. But then he felt Draco's mouth swallowing his dick and all his cautious thoughts disappeared from his brain. The one in his head, at least.

While Draco hummed appreciatively around his cock, Harry fumbled at the condom, tearing the golden wrapper open. He noticed then that Draco was already preparing himself while sucking him off. That got Harry even more turned on, and he pushed Draco away to roll the condom over his dick. Draco whined a little when Harry's dick left his mouth, but grinned once it was covered with latex.

Draco rolled over, positioning himself on all fours. He looked at Harry expectantly over his shoulder with an arched eyebrow.

Harry thought he'd never seen anything more arousing in his life.

Not long after that, they were going hot and heavy on the bed. Draco, who hadn't said a word while attacking Harry, turned out to be quite chatty during sex. He growled instructions at Harry through gritted teeth.

"Harder! _Yes !_ "

"Right there! Again!"

" _Oh God_!"

A constant barrage of "FUCK!"'s littered the remaining silence.

They soon felt on the brink of coming. Draco was the first to let go, coming hard on the sheets with a loud moan. Feeling Draco clenching around his cock, Harry didn't last much longer, slamming his hips one more time against Draco's ass and releasing himself in the condom.

He pulled out after Draco started to move, and the both of them fell in a silent impasse.

Awkwardly, Harry pulled the covers up over them, taking his time while trying to find something to say. He hadn't expected that looking for a flash drive would lead to this awesome fucking sex. Because it had been awesome, no point denying in that.

But with Draco Malfoy off all people? Harry hadn't even suspected he was gay, and his gaydar was usually pretty good.

"Umm…" Harry started quietly.

He was interrupted by the door opening and a blond guy making his entrance. His eyes were puffy and he looked hammered. Actually, at closer look, Draco was no different. His whole body emanated the smell of vodka, but Harry didn't actually care.

"Dray, got any Advil or some shit? My head feels like it's gonna explo…" He left his sentence in mid air when he noticed the two bodies under the blanket. He burst into laughter.

"Shit, man! How wasted were you?!" He pinched between his eyebrows in pain before either boy could respond. "Fuck, I feel so bad… Think I'm gonna go back to sleep."

Blondie yawned and closed the door behind him.

Harry and Draco stared blankly at the closed door, before Draco got up and started to dress. Harry did the same in silence. Finally dressed, they stared at each other, not knowing what to say or do.

Without proper thought, Harry decided to do the dumbest move he could ever think of; He leaned in to kiss Draco. Draco promptly avoided the trajectory of Harry's lips by stepping back and turning away from Harry with a growl.

"Kiss me and I'll cut your fucking tongue out."

Harry took the incredibly subtle hint and turned to leave.

He was heading out the door when something small hit the back of his head. Looking down at the floor he reached to grab the offending object; the flash drive.

Harry looked up to meet the other boy's eyes, but Draco didn't say anything more. Just waved for Harry to get the fuck out.

Once outside of the smokey, alcoholic stench of the common room, Harry let his thoughts wander.

That had been unexpected. And yet amazing.

He hadn't been feeling good since he started taking his medication, and certainly didn't remember feeling _that_ good since then, maybe even before that. Maybe, possibly, when he had been manic, but this kind of good wasn't the same as that high, crazy way. It was different. Better.

And Harry wanted to feel it again.

…

What the fuck?!


	2. Closet

How could he have never noticed how hot Draco Malfoy was?

He was not the typical beauty, but really, Harry wondered how the hell it had never crossed his mind to pin the guy down and have a go at him before.

On second thoughts, maybe it was because he looked like a homophobic bully and acted like a prick. And yet... those eyes. So blue, and filled with lusty thoughts.

Now that Harry knew that Draco was gay (or bi, or pan or whatever), he could let his mind wander to appreciate Draco's body. He was short. Harry had never cared about height: if the guy was willing to bend over for him, Harry had nothing to be picky about. In fact, Draco being shorter meant it was easier for Harry to move him around to suit his needs; even if he was still not that sure Draco would be up for letting Harry take control, it looked like the older guy liked a strong grip on his hips and the loud moans he emitted when Harry grabbed him there were kind of a clue.

Draco was well built; his muscles were not defined as Harry's, but when touching his body, Harry had felt the hardness beneath the soft, pale skin. Harry had already decided that Draco's thighs were his favourite part, they were so damn thick. No, wait. Scratch that. Draco's ass was his best feature. It was perfect. Round, solid, a grade A ass. If Harry was any good with poetry he would write an ode to that ass. But Harry was no poet. The ways he could appreciate that firm butt with his hands, though…

He wanted to touch it again. Squeeze it with his hands. Bite it with his bared teeth. Lick the marks to soothe the pain.

He could feel himself stiffen in his pants just thinking about it.

 _Want to get inside Draco again…_

"Hey turn the lights on!" somebody shouted.

Suddenly the room was again visible to Harry's eyes.

 _Oh._

 _Reminder to self,_ he thought as his cheeks flush: it doesn't matter if the lights are off. Letting his horny brain go wild during study group (they were watching some documentary about something related to some journalist or whatever; that was how much he paid attention to the screen) was not a smart move.

Feeling eyes boring holes into his sides, Harry turned to his left to take notice of Seamus staring straight at his crotch, loudly sucking at his pen. Harry looked down.

"Fuck!"

He hastily dropped his coat on his lap.

Harry heard a disappointed sigh coming from Seamus.

"The fuck, Seamus?" the dark-haired boy asked in disbelief.

"God Harry, you're such a party pooper." Seamus just replied with a shrug.

Yeah, it was mandatory not to think about Draco's ass in public.

Apparently, it was best not to think about Draco's amazing ass even in a private moment.

Like when he was balls deep in Severus's.

 _What the hell?_ It used to be good, fucking his professor. But after driving a Lamborghini, being in a Prius kind of loses its appeal and good for the environment be damned.

Paradoxically, Severus was enjoying the sex even more than usual. Harry was not surprised. Imagining someone else, someone with dark, unruly hair and pale skin, did get him going as it never happened before with Severus. Harry knew he should have felt guilty, but he just couldn't. That was actually what worried him the most; the fact that he didn't give a flying fuck about Severus's feelings. Harry just prayed that it was because he never really liked the man, that in the end they had only used each other to get off. Not because he was feeling manic, and the fact that he wanted to have Draco again was just the result of one of his bad, illogical decisions.

Well, bipolar or not, wanting to have sex with Draco again was probably a bad idea anyway.

The afternoon after they had fucked, Harry had gone to Lyra under the guise of "the best friend who doesn't have to have a reason to hang around", and started to ask her a bunch of questions, all of them Draco-related. All inquired with the fine art of subtlety. Pity that Harry couldn't play cool if his life depended on it. Lyra caught on, but she deduced was that Harry was still scared of her brother. She just laughed, shoving at his shoulder and assuring him that now that he was her alleged boyfriend he didn't have anything to fear about from Draco. As long as Draco didn't discover that Harry was gay it would be fine, she said, since Draco was a violent homophobe who didn't think twice before plummeting punches in some kid's face because he thought was hitting on him. Harry had to suppress any remarks that piece of information inspired by biting his bottom lip.

Harry had lived in Tottenham until he was fourteen, so he had known his fair share of bullies and thugs. That's why, even if Draco behaved like them, Harry was not put out too much by it. Probably the fact that Draco was damn hot helped with that.

 _So hot…_

"Yes, Harry!" someone shouted beneath him.

Severus.

 _Not Draco._

Fuck, Harry just came thinking about the wrong guy. But Severus had come too, so it was _not a big a deal,_ he told himself.

Harry pulled out, removed the condom and tossed it in the garbage bin on auto-pilot.

Severus was still panting hard. Regaining his breath, he started to zip up his former well-ironed pants.

"That was… I mean I just sucked you off two days ago. How come you were so pent up?"

In any other moment – well, any other moment Before Draco- he would've had told Severus something along the line of "I missed you," or some shit that Harry knew his… what? Lover? Fuck-buddy? Liked to hear. But right now he decided to grunt

"Maybe a two-day period without fucking is too long for me and you're just too old to understand that."

Apparently, what he had said was not considered rude in Severus's etiquette, because the professor just smiled at him.

"Oh, c'mon like you don't like them older!" Severus laughed softly.

Harry winced at the remark because it wasn't that far from the truth. Yet somehow he wished Severus would just keep his fucking married mouth shut.

And that smile…

A wuss smile. That what it was.

 _Wuss wuss wuss._

Ever since Draco had barged into the office to scare Severus off and then had scored the flash drive without so much of any physical resistance from the professor, Harry's thoughts about Severus had completely changed.

Severus was not sweet, he was a pussy. He wasn't gentle, he was a tool. What Harry was getting from Severus was not a sense of stability anymore. It felt like Severus was his ball and chain, a noose around his neck.

"Fuck, Severus, you're suffocating me!" yelled Harry suddenly into the silence. Severus was rubbing Harry's shoulders and it felt like a restrictive grip.

He shoved Severus away and stalked out of the office.

Harry did the only thing that could take the edge off his tumbling thoughts: he called home.

He was slumped against a wall in an isolated hallway, trying to decide if it was wise to light up a cigarette. He put the pack of smokes back in the bag and decided to grab his phone instead.

It wasn't long before a warm, familiar voice answered on the other side.

"Hey stranger!" greeted his older sister Hermione.

Harry chuckled. "Oh, c'mon 'Mione. It's only been a week! I remember Justin making us wait a month or more before he deemed us worthy of a call."

"Yeah but it's already established that Justin is the family's certified asshole. You, on the other hand, are my lovely baby brother."

"Ew 'Mione, lovely?" he smirked. "And I thought Dudley and Riley were the baby brothers."

"Yeah, well. You're younger than I am, so I'm right."

"As always!" Then he added tenderly; "Sorry I took a week."

"You'd better be. You didn't even come home for Thanksgiving!"

The joy Harry was feeling from talking to Hermione disappeared at the mention of the holiday.

"Oh shit!" Hermione exclaimed "Sorry Harry, I… I didn't think."

Harry sighed. It had been four years since it happened, but the memory still lingered.

"Harry… you know that you're not like her, right?" Hermione continued in a soft, soothing voice. "You're better. She was… She couldn't take it. But you can. You know that, right?"

Harry nodded, quickly remembering that Hermione couldn't see him. "Yeah. I know. It's just… I'll get past it, ok?"

"I know you will." And there was a certainty in her tone that made Harry feel strong.

Their mum, Lily, had killed herself on Thanksgiving. They were just getting acquainted with their new house in London, wanting to celebrate a holiday when they really had something to be grateful for. Lily had come to see them a few days prior, assuring them that she was finally willing to take her meds.

Instead, during the festivity, when her family was in the vast lunchroom having fun and eating a big fat turkey, she vertically sliced her wrists and slowly died without her family suspecting anything was amiss. They all had thought that she was sleeping in the guest room, feeling woozy after she had taken her medication. When they found her in a pool of blood, they immediately called 911, but it was too late. The sight of that particular space in the kitchen was too much to bear and was one of the reasons why Hermione decided to move again.

Harry had thought he could be the rock of his family. He was the one who got his younger siblings out of the kitchen, who hopped on the ambulance without second thoughts, and then helped Hermione to clean the mess. The year after, Harry was the one who insisted that they should try to have a happy Thanksgiving. Two years after, Harry was AWOL in New York. Three years later, Harry had started being treated for Bipolar Disorder, the same shit that his mother had, and he couldn't think about damn Thanksgiving without being reminded of his situation. This year, Harry had stayed at university got wasted with Lyra.

Harry shook his head. Hermione was right. Maybe by next year he would be able to have a nice Thanksgiving with his family. Or so he hoped.

"So… How's Billy?" he changed the topic as quickly as he could.

"Billy?! Are you for real?" Thankfully Hermione decided to go with the flow straight away. "Here I was all giddy and happy that you bothered to call and you ask about a fucking pony?!"

Harry laughed softly. "Yeah well, sorry for giving a damn about him."

"Oh shut up. He already gets the entire damn in the world."

"I bet. He's too fucking cute!" Harry smiled. "The horses here are not as pretty as Billy."

"They are pretty! You should see 'em when they run, beautiful!"

"Listen to you, 'Mione! Having a cowboy for a boyfriend really gets you excited about the equine world!" he teased his older sister.

"Hey I've always loved these animals. The Ray-factor has nothing to do with it!" Hermione replied defensively.

"Sure Hermione, sure…"

"Aren't you going to ask about the rest of the family?" This time it was Hermione's turn to change the topic.

"Hannah sends me a picture of Emily like every other day. How many dresses does that kid have? Jesus, can you please tell her that her daughter is not a friggin doll?"

"Like you never bought her a bunch of stuff too."

"Yeah well. The dresses I bought are cool." Harry had to make it clear. No frou-frou for his niece. "Oh and Dudley told me that he got held by the police? Again?"

"That kid…" Hermione huffed. "Nothing serious. They caught him high as a kite with a couple of friends while they were driving a stolen tractor. They crashed a neighbour's barn. We had to pay for the damage and they let him go."

Harry chuckled. "At least Riley is still perfect."

"Never seen a six year old so calm and well behaved. His teachers are all compliments and shit," he could hear the pride in Hermione's voice. Riley was the only brother she had raised by herself from the beginning.

"Thank God for Riley Potter, then."

"No God. _Hermione_." His sister replied firmly. Then added. "So…"

Harry braced himself. He suspected where the "So" with those three dots was going.

"Got a boyfriend, yet?"

He knew it. Harry had never mentioned Severus to Hermione. She would have disapproved. Married, older men were a big no-no. But Draco… Draco was something else, wasn't he?

"Well…" Harry began.

"Oh my god, Harry. Really?! I'm so happy for you!" Her scream of delight down the line was almost deafening. "Tell me! Who is he? How did you two meet?"

"Wow, hey, hold your horses!" He heard a whinny in the background. "Literally. Are you on a fucking horse right now?"

"Yeah. So? Tell your big sis!"

"Uh… It's still early days, I don't know…"

"The early days are the best! Enjoy yourself."

"Yeah sure…" Only problem was, Harry didn't know if early days were all he was going to get with Draco. There might not be a repeat...and the prospect was not a happy one.

Then his eyes widened as he noticed a figure swaggering towards him.

Like he'd been summoned, Draco Malfoy appeared. And he was looking straight at Harry.

"Uh, 'Mione. I need to go now."

"Oh. Ok. Lov-" Harry abruptly ended the phone call.

Draco was face-to-face with him now. He was touching the corner of his mouth with his tongue, looking Harry up and down. There was a brief pause in his stride, then he resumed his walk past Harry, leaving a bewildered redhead behind.

"Comin' or what, Pots?" Harry heard Draco ask lowly.

Harry twisted on his feet in a second, looking at the older guy. Draco was working his bottom lip with his thumb, now. If Harry didn't know any better it would almost seem like Draco was nervous.

"Uh…" Harry started, just in case he missed something, trailing behind him down the hallway.

Draco didn't say anything. With those eyebrows arched in Harry's direction he didn't need to. Draco fumbled in his pocket for a key at a small doorway, and pushed open the door. Harry decided to follow him.

The small room was undoubtedly a janitor's closet. How the hell did Draco have the key to it? To alleviate the tense silence between the two of them, Harry decided to ask.

"So, umh, the key-"

"You want to ask questions or you want to get on me?" Draco interrupted bluntly.

Harry couldn't say he really minded.

Harry was still zipping up his pants when Draco began walking towards the door. How the fuck was he able to dress so fast?

"So…I guess that was like a booty call, uh?" Harry asked, to try and stall Draco for second. He hadn't even steadied his breath yet and Draco was certainly not giving him time to enjoy the fucking afterglow. Besides, he didn't want the other guy to leave so soon.

"Whatever. See ya." Draco didn't even glance back as he said it. He opened the door and left.

Harry remained in the closet, belt still unbuckled. He rubbed a hand over his face with a loud sigh.

Well, he fucked Draco again. He should be satisfied.

So why wasn't he?

It wasn't the sex. That had been pretty satisfying. Incredibly satisfying.

It was Draco. Harry wanted him again. Not only for a quick fuck. And that worried him shitless. Draco was trouble and Harry didn't want to seek trouble. It could have devastating consequences for him. Yet, at the same time, it excited the hell out of him. He was all warm and fuzzy inside... why should he deny himself that feeling?

It was in that moment of resolution, that Harry noticed a key –the key- lying on the floor.

Had Draco forgotten it? Or had he left it for Harry?

Harry didn't care. Either way, it was the perfect excuse to see Draco again.


	3. Decisions

Harry decided that before making any move on Draco, he should test the waters first.

Should he leave Severus? Perhaps at the moment Harry was finding him insufferable, but he was always a safe option, right? Even if Harry got to fuck Draco again, he had no guarantees that the other guy wouldn't simply use Harry as a nice diversion, before going back to girls or fucking with a new guy. It was also possible that Harry was not the only one Draco was banging. The slight pangs of jealousy unsettled Harry: he was certainly not supposed to feel that way, since he was still giving it to Severus (even if using him as a proxy for Draco, but these were minor details).

So, the million dollar question was; was it really worth his time to pursue Draco Malfoy?

He should open an inquiry on the guy in question.

Harry decided to start with his dorm roommate Ron. The two of them had scored quite a nice apartment; a two-bedroom, one bathroom and tiny living room on the second floor of the red brick building called Gryffindor Hall.

At first, Harry had been fine with the idea of sharing a single room apartment with someone else, like he had in West Point. That was until Hermione reminded him he may not want someone so close to his bed in case he incurred some problems with his cocktails of meds and couldn't get out of it; or even if he wanted an unknown person watching him taking his morning and evening pills. Harry decided to follow Hermione's advice and to look for a larger apartment with more separation. That way he would have the privacy of his own room, but in case of emergencies or even just loneliness, there was going to be somebody there with him.

Thing is, when Harry first met Ron Weasley, all his hopes of making a great friendship that could last more than four years were shattered in a matter of a few days.

This is what Harry quickly gathered about his roomie.

Ron did not like:

The smell of Harry's cigarettes. And no, not the smell of cigarettes in general. Specifically Harry's.

Harry's music. He forced Harry to tone it down to a minimum by banging at the wall dividing their bedrooms several times.

The fact that Harry stayed more in their living room than his own bedroom, causing them to meet more often than absolutely necessary.

Harry's mess around the apartment, like empty bags of chips or crunched bottles of water.

Harry. Probably.

Harry was almost resigned to living with a Harry-hater for the whole college period, but things eventually improved.

It took 2 months, 20 extra large pizzas, 37 butter beers, and Harry feigning interest in whatever Ron was studying, his tastes in music, movies and literature, to get Ron to finally open up to him.

Harry thanked his chameleon-like nature, irresistible charm and unrelenting perseverance, for the breakthrough

Once he did, he discovered was that Ron was not a cold asshole as he initially thought, but just socially impaired. Ron had pegged Harry for an easy going, too chatty, superficial guy, who loved to go to clubs and have fun with whoever, whenever, wherever. This was actually accurate. Except the superficial part.

Harry made it his mission to prove to Ron that yeah, maybe he was easy going, he didn't find it difficult to talk to other people no matter the topic, and dancing in clubs was still something that he liked to do, from time to time. But he was _more_ than a party guy, and he loved to chill out at home as well, beer in hand watching television. True, he preferred magazines and online newspapers to Ron's fantasy books, and their taste in music were different, but to their surprise they discovered that they had some indie bands in common.

After a while, and Harry's agreement to watch a Lord of the Rings marathon (never again), he got Ron to confess why he hated the smell of Harry's cigarettes; apparently his ex-girlfriend used to smoke the same brand. Lavender had been Ron's only girlfriend, and they'd been together for more than two years. She had broken up with him when they both were accepted into their colleges of choice. Instead of saying she couldn't bear the thought of a long-distance relationship, she had spat out a diatribe of hatred towards Ron, basically saying now she was on her way to bigger and better things, and didn't need him or his money in the end.

The breakup nearly destroyed Ron. He spent the whole summer in his room playing online Chess and venting on various internet forums and online chat rooms.

It was a few days after Ron's revelation that Harry decided to tell him about his disorder. Partially it was to deepen their new friendship, and partly it was to have someone he could count on if his brain rejected the meds and Harry had breakdown or manic episode. Harry apologized upfront for any future inconveniences, assuring Ron that he just needed to call his doctor if he noticed that something big had changed.

Ron had shrugged, telling Harry it was no big deal. That friend's were supposed to help each other. That sealed it for Harry. He had to bite his bottom lip to stop himself from crying, and he hugged Ron awkwardly, who was so not used to such physical displays of affection. Ron stayed completely still for the duration of the torture, but Harry could see a little smile on his face.

After that, Harry telling Ron that he was gay was not a deal breaker. Ron just took another bite of pizza before asking which position Harry took during sex. Harry was not surprised. He had discovered how curious Ron was about everything.

Ron asked Harry many questions about his bipolar disorder, but always accepted Harry's wishes to not talk about certain things he wasn't comfortable discussing. It was strange, but even though Ron refused to meet any of Harry's other friends, and never hung around Harry outside of their apartment, Harry found it comforting to come back home to someone who he thought of as a brother.

And that was why Harry decided to talk to him about Draco.

They were both lounging on the sofa, their usual meeting spot. They had ordered Thai and Harry was digging into his pad Thai when he blurted out

"Ron, do you know Draco Malfoy?"

Ron looked at him with raised eyebrows. It wasn't expressive as Draco's, but still managed to convey the message: _Do I look like someone who knows people?_

"Never mind…" Harry bit his lip and decided to shut up.

For like a minute or two.

"You know. I met this guy…" he began again, trying to sound as more casual as possible.

"Who? This Draco?" Ron caught on, munching his food.

"What? No!" Harry almost choked on his noodles. "Just a guy. A random, nameless guy." He forced a shrug, trying to play it cool. As usual he didn't succeed.

"Mhm. Ok. A random, nameless guy then." Ron nodded slowly, looking at Harry like he was full of bullshit.

"Yeah, so, hum. You know I'm seeing this other guy…"

"Your Potions professor, Snake or something."

"What the fuck Ron?! How did you know that?" Harry looked at Ron like he was some sort of mind-reading monster.

"You talk too much and you are incapable of being subtle. Not that difficult." Ron shrugged. "Please do continue."

"So, well, things with Severus are becoming a little… stale? I mean he's a good guy I guess. But he's just so…"

"Boring." Ron volunteered.

"No!" Harry's first instinct was to deny the accusation, but he paused. "I mean… yeah. Boring." He had to admit it to Ron.

"I thought that boring was what you wanted."

Harry wanted to say that he liked Severus for other reasons; like that he was a good, quiet guy. But he realized that it was another huge pile of shit. He _had_ gone for Severus because he was boring.

"I guess…" Harry admitted. "But he's stable. It's good for me, right? And the other guy…"

"Draco."

 _Fuck you, Ron. Seriously, fuck you._

"This other guy... he's like the opposite. He's rough, violent and is deeply, like very deeply, closeted. I mean even Severus is, but at least with him I can tell that he likes me. I think Dra… the other guy, just looks at me like a fuck-buddy. And I don't want that. It's…"

"Not stable." Ron cut him off again. But as usual was right to the point.

"Yeah. I kind of like the guy. But he doesn't sound like a good deal for me."

"And you want me to tell you if you should chase after him or back off."

"Basically, yes."

Ron took a moment to think about the situation.

"Ok. I'm no expert in relationships, but I can see that you should stop seeing this Severus. You're using him for stability and he's using you because you're young and pretty. And he's married. I know you're afraid you'll go manic if you explore outside of your routine, and I'm not saying you should be reckless. I'm not inside your head to try to play doctor. It's just that… I can see you're unhappy with Severus. You fuck –a barely decent fuck from what you told me- then what? He kisses you goodbye and then goes home to kiss his wife hello? If you think that your life has to be sad and empty of feelings in order to be safe and sound, you're wrong. Stay like this and you're going to become a lonely old man, regretting not having taken your chance at happiness."

Ron looked at Harry and he almost felt bad for having said such harsh words. But Ron was harsh. He went straight to the point with no hypocrisy and people's precious feelings be damned. This characteristic had never helped him making and keeping friends, who couldn't understand that behind his blunt opinions there was deep concern and desire to help.

Harry stayed silent, and Ron was afraid he was going to lose the only true friend he had in college. Then Harry surprised him.

"I guess that's kind of true. What about the other guy, though?"

Ron sighed with relief.

"I don't know about Draco. He doesn't seem like a real catch, but I suppose it's the bad boy charm that appeals to you. Really, what is it with bad boys that attract everybody?" Ron shook his head. "I think it's up to you. Just try to decide if not going for him is going to be something you regret in the future."

Harry nodded. Then he turned the TV up, shutting the conversation down.

"Hey, do you know this dude, Draco Malfoy?" Harry asked trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

The look of terror in Seamus' eyes and of anger in Dean's suggested that yes, they fucking knew him.

"Don't even mention his name!" Seamus cried out in a high pitched voice.

They were in the middle of the dining hall and a few heads turned to look at the blonde. Seamus was embarrassed for a second, but then shrugged and resumed the conversation.

"Yeah we fucking know him. My face fucking knows him," Seamus replied, almost shivering.

"Did he beat you up?" Harry asked, confused.

"What do you think? Yes, he beat me up. Dean too." He closed his eyes trying to muster the courage to speak. Really, it's never nice to talk about getting punched, but Seamus was drawing it out, taking his damn time.

"While we're young, Seamus." Harry urged.

Seamus huffed and pouted. "Ok, ok. So it happened in September, we still hadn't met. You-know-who decided I was checking him out and that it was a good idea to come closer, asking me if I was a 'fucking faggot'. I couldn't even try to deny it before he head butted me –straight on my beautiful face and then punched me here." He indicated his belly. "And he even threw a couple of kicks at me after I collapsed on the grass."

Then he nodded towards Dean with a small smile. "Lucky for me a Good Samaritan came to my rescue." He huffed "Pity that he got the shit beaten out of him as well."

The pride that had glowed on Dean's face faded quickly to be replaced by shame.

Harry, who had listened to the tale with full attention, decided to inquire further into his friend's trauma.

"And were you? Checking him out?"

"Whaaat? That's what you're asking? If I was..." Seamus looked offended and quite shocked but then he deflated and admitted, "Yeah, I guess… I mean he's kind of cool, right? With that whole bad to the bone package. And I don't know, I thought I felt a gay vibe from him. Boy was I wrong."

Harry couldn't help but think that Seamus was kind of stupid when it came to understanding other people's attraction towards him. Like Dean, who was so blatantly taken by him and Seamus was completely fucking oblivious.

Still, Seamus had probably a gaydar better functioning than Harry's.

"So you don't know anything else about him?" Harry asked after a minute.

"Why are you so interested?" Seamus looked at him suspiciously. "Don't tell me that you got on his wrong side. You throw your coffee at him? OMG don't tell me it's money-related! Did you lose at poker with him?"

There was deep concern in Seamus' tone, making it impossible for Harry to laugh at his suggestions.

"No. He's just Lyra's brother."

"Oh, Lyra. I still don't get why you involved yourself with her. You don't need a beard."

"Maybe not, but she's my friend." Harry said defensively. He didn't like people talking badly about Lyra.

"Whatever, Harry. We're just worried about you. That Malfoy family… they're not good people."

Harry didn't even need to ask how Seamus knew. He was kind of the Gossip Girl of the school.

"I heard that they're rich. But their money is bloody. You get what I mean? They have all sorts of underworld trafficking going on. They have connections like everywhere, especially in… Where was it? Tottenham, yeah."

Lyra had already told him where she was from, but for the life of him he had never heard about her family before. He guessed that probably they didn't have any interests in the South Side.

"Oh and they have this façade of owning something in transportation, I think? And I heard the father is a fucking nazi. His whole family is. I bet you-know-who has like fifty nazi tattoos on him."

Truth was, Harry hadn't noticed any tattoos on Draco's body. But then the first time the windows were shut down, light dim, and the second time they hadn't even bothered to undress. He was so engulfed in his dirty thoughts about Draco's body that he didn't notice that Seamus had finished talking.

"That doesn't change that Lyra is a nice girl," Harry remarked, his voice a little lower than before.

"A nice skank, you mean," said Seamus. After the death glare Harry sent him, he shut up.

Next on his hit list? Lyra.

Harry was meeting her at the library to review for their upcoming English exam, and Harry decided to prod further into his new Draco knowledge. He had to be careful around his baby sister, though. The first time Lyra hadn't understood the meaning behind his questions, but a second time was risky.

After Lyra had explained him how Gatsby was this psycho stalker who gave her the creeps, Harry managed to say, as casually as possible.

"Uh, I saw your brother yesterday."

"Yeah? Did he bother you or something?" Lyra asked immediately, eyebrows raised.

"No."

"Then why you telling me?"

"Uh. No reason."

 _Cool Harry, so cool._

Lyra shrugged and went back to her papers. Harry tried again.

"Is he, like, always so-"

"Stupid?" suggested Lyra.

"I wanted to say violent but yeah, let's go with that." Any conversation with Lyra talking about Draco was fine with him.

"You know what? I don't even know if he's stupid. Sometimes I think he just acts like a stupid monkey. I mean, have you seen his house bros? They're like mesmerized by him. What he orders, they do, what he thinks, they think. He has the biggest room and, yeah, Pops is an alumni there as well as our brothers and we're rich, so Draco got in almost instantly, but Draco didn't just enter the place, he fucking owns it."

Ok, why the fuck did Harry feel a sudden wave of pride at Draco being the douche bag King of Douche bags?

"I guess it's good for him, since Pops has already set his mind that Draco has to become the next world leader. Well, if he manages to graduate." Lyra muses thoughtfully while chewing on her bubble gum.

Harry knew that Draco was majoring in International Relations, Severus told him after Harry had consigned the flash drive to him. The professor explained that Malfoy had used his courses to get easy credits. Harry wondered how many other professors Draco had bribed or scared off.

"You know, he even attends his classes. Well, some of them, at least. But nothing in this world can persuade him to study for a fucking exam. But he always manages to pass. He doesn't even bribe all the professors. Sometimes he gets easy notes from some grade A student, or I don't know, I guess that he actually pays attention to class, from time to time."

Harry knew nothing about that, the only time he had ever seen him in a classroom, Draco had been taking a nap.

That reminded him of the other topic he wanted to ask her about.

"What if I don't like Severus anymore?"

"I've never understood what you saw in him in the first place," she replied, deadpan.

Harry didn't really know how to reply to that. He wasn't sure himself.

"So… what should I do?"

"You don't like it, you leave it," Lyra replied simply, as if it was the easiest thing in the world.

And maybe it was.

"Ay wench."

A voice Harry was getting more than acquainted with resounded behind him. Harry didn't dare move.

"Hey Assface," retorted Lyra, without looking at her brother. Her eyes focused on Harry instead. He looked so fidgety that Lyra came to the obvious conclusion that Harry was still nervous around Draco. She slapped her hand on top of Harry's. Like a girlfriend is supposed to do.

Harry looked at her in surprise, but he didn't shove her hand off.

"Potter," Draco greeted him with a smirk. "Being lovey dovey with my sister, I see."

Harry tried and miraculously managed to maintain his nerve.

"Draco," he nodded blandly.

Draco threw a folder bursting with lecture notes at Lyra.

"Look what I got for you. You should kiss my feet, bitch," Draco smirked, pleased with himself.

"Uh? What's this?" Lyra opened the folder to look at the notes, confused.

Draco's eyebrows movements indicated surprise and a slight contempt towards his sister.

And yes. Harry was looking straight at his face, exploiting the fact that Draco's attention was on Lyra. Harry was starting to think that Draco didn't really need words to communicate. Maybe the next President of the United States was going to make speeches only wiggling his eyebrows.

"Bitch, you asked for this! Remember? Use that stupid fucking head of yours. Didn't you say you wanted the notes for Transfiguration? Well, here are the fucking notes. You're welcome!"

Her eyes lit up with understanding. "What? I just mentioned that I wanted the notes, not that you needed to go up beat some kid to get them!"

"I didn't fucking need to beat that geek, I just asked him nicely and he dropped immediately. I guess he knows me."

"Well, you shouldn't have done it anyway; you're going to ruin my reputation," Lyra muttered.

"Like it's not already ruined by association. Anyway, since you don't want them, I'm going to trash this somewhere…"

"NO!" Lyra clutched the papers to her chest.

Draco smirked. He knew she was going to take it.

Harry, who had been listening to their exchange silently, almost jumped out of his seat when Draco put a heavy hand on his shoulder.

"Treat my sister well, Potter. Maybe the skank won't cheat on you."

"Oh, shut up!" retorted Lyra resentfully.

But Harry wasn't paying attention to their bickering anymore. His eyes were fixed on Draco's hand on his shoulder, staring at something on Draco's knuckles. Now that they were so close and under the bright lights of the library, Harry could discern something like a stain on each of them. It wasn't dirt, though… maybe letters? But they were so faded that Harry couldn't distinguish them exactly. Then, Draco's pinkie started to caress ever so slightly the nape of his neck, and Harry lost focus completely. He couldn't begin to understand how Lyra didn't notice his flushed face.

Harry was lost so deeply in his own world that he emerged from it only after Draco bid them goodbye, with a rough "douche bags".

Without thinking about it, Harry got up, telling Lyra he needed to go to the bathroom. His intentions were far from pissing though. After that caress, Harry was sure Draco was in serious need of the key and Harry was very eager to give it to him.

Harry had almost reached the older guy when Draco was greeted by three guys. Maybe they were friends, maybe they were part of his fraternity either way, and they were looking at him like the sun shined from his ass.

Harry was determined to reach Draco in spite of their arrival, but one glare from Draco suggested that it was better for him to fuck off.

He went back to Lyra, plopping on the chair with a dejected sigh.

"That was fast," observed Lyra.

"Yeah, the bathroom is getting cleaned. Couldn't get in."

Lyra nodded, absentmindedly. "Think you can hold it for another hour? You need to tell me everything you know about fucking Hemingway. He is too boring for my delicate taste."

The hour passed, with Harry talking about Hemingway... while thinking about Draco and Severus.

Ok, Harry acknowledged, maybe Draco was not a great choice to pursue. His family was shit (except Lyra, of course), he was closeted, violent and it didn't look like Draco wanted anything more from him than a good fuck.

But... Draco was also sexy, smart, and the first guy in a long time who had made Harry _feel_ something.

Harry decided that he didn't want to lose that, just because he was scared he would lose his safe routine. Even if that someone was trouble and probably was not even interested in him. He wanted to chase that feeling because it felt nice to be alive.

Harry decided in that moment that he was going to do it; he was going to pursue Draco.

And to do that, he needed to break-up with Severus.


	4. Stalker-ish

Harry didn't want to be that kind of guy anymore.

The kind who cheats and doesn't care who he hurts in the process. He had been like that even before his bipolar disorder had kicked in, probably due to being a South Side gay kid with crazed hormones and solid stamina. He had fucked his way through all the Aurors, instructors included.

Now he was more careful. At twenty he was capable of not screwing around, and since taking the meds he had only been with Severus. Harry didn't regret making the change, and doing it with Severus. It made Harry discover that sex didn't have to be the dangerous weapon he had previously thought.

But now? Since Draco? Now he wanted something more. And to have that, he needed to let Severus go.

Harry decided to go for it after his Potions exam. During the whole two hours he sat curled over his paper, Harry could feel Severus's stare on him. Severus was probably wondering why Harry hadn't come to see him after their last encounter had ended so abruptly. Looking up, Harry saw the professor glancing at him with sad, puppy eyes. Harry smothered a laugh. Severus looked ridiculous. Not everyone could pull that move and still looking endearing. Puppy eyes were definitely Harry's forte.

Still, Harry needed to put the puppy out of his misery. So as the rest of the class filed out at the close of the exam, he stayed in his seat.

Happy students, sad students, confused students and I-don't-fucking-care-how-it-went students left the room, leaving Harry and Severus alone.

"Can we go to your office?" asked Harry, reaching for his bag.

"Sure." Severus's face brightened with expectation. His office? Severus knew what that meant. They only ever met at his office for sex.

He strolled contently down the hallway with Harry nine feet behind him.

The door swung shut behind them, and Severus was already loosening his tie when Harry stopped him.

"Wait."

"Huh? Why?" Severus looked surprised. Then smiled. Maybe Harry just wanted to apologize for the last time before getting right into it.

Harry was about to begin reciting the pre-rehearsed break up lines he had run through his head on his way over, when he noticed a pile of papers on Severus's desk with Draco's name on the first one. He nodded towards it.

"Is that Draco's exam?"

"What?" Severus replied distractedly, then looked in the direction Harry was pointing. "Oh, yeah. He did it this morning. I had to correct it straight away to see if he could pass. I guess that bastard managed to see the content of the flash drive anyway. He did pretty well," Severus added scornfully.

"Sorry," Harry muttered, even though he wasn't. Well, at least not about Draco passing the exam.

"Oh, don't worry about it. It's not your fault that you couldn't get the drive sooner," Severus replied with a wave of his hand.

Harry blinked at his words. Was Severus fucking kidding?

"Excuse me?" Harry spat in response. "What the fuck does that mean? It was you who let Draco take the fucking drive!"

Severus was taken aback. "What was I supposed to do? Malfoy is violent. I'm a smart man in a stupid world. I had to do what I did!"

"You didn't do anything, Severus. That's the problem, you're not a smart man, you're a fucking pussy!" Harry couldn't believe that Severus wasn't admitting his cowardice, was actually trying to justify his weakness. "Iwas the one who fucking got it for you and now you _forgive_ me for not getting it sooner? Fuck you, Severus!"

Severus looked at him in disbelief. "What the hell has crawled up your ass? First you're so hot for me, then you tell me I'm suffocating you, and now you're acting like a dick!"

"I'macting like a dick?" Harry shouted, then took a deep breath to calm himself. "You know what? I came here to tell you this nicely but you're making my decision much, much easier."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm breaking up with you, Severus. Whatever we had going on is finished. It was okay while it lasted, but-"

"What? "

"Shut the fuck up and let me finish. I thought you were right for me, but I needed to open my eyes to see that you're clearly not. You're married, you can't stand up for yourself and you're boring as shit."

"Harry!" Severus sounded scandalized.

Harry huffed, his face softening a little. "Look, I don't think you're a bad person, but you need to man up a bit."

Severus murmured something that Harry couldn't catch. "What?"

"I said OUT! Get OUT!" Severus shouted angrily. That was the first time Harry had seen him angry. But he had seen better and worse and Harry wasn't that impressed.

"Yeah, whatever. And you're the adult here, huh?"

Harry started to move towards the door, but stopped a second before he pushed it open.

"Don't even try to flunk my exam. I know I did it pretty well, so I'm expecting a decent grade. Don't surprise me, okay? Or maybe I'll surprise your wife with _your_ little secret."

Severus's face turned white. "You… you wouldn't…"

"I won't if you won't."

With that, Harry clicked the door shut behind him.

When friends ask you to keep an eye on their bags while they go to the bathroom, you're just supposed to keep a fucking eye on them. Nothing more.

What Harry did was slightly different. After their study session at the library, Lyra and Harry had gone to grab something to eat at the nearby coffee shop. Lyra headed to the bathroom and asked Harry to watch her Gucci bag while she was gone.

Harry eyed the bag carefully. He wasn't worried about someone taking it, not when it was perched next to him on the bench. He was staring at it, wondering just how wrong it was to peek inside and grab her cell phone.

 _Oh what the hell…_

Harry reached in and fished out Lyra's cell phone from the disorganized mess his best-friend called "a few necessary things" and opened it. He felt so guilty to actually know the security code. He clicked on 'contacts', and scrolled down the list until he found the M's.

 _Wait, where's Draco?_

He looked through all her contacts, feeling stalkerish as fuck and fearing Lyra's return any second.

Harry thought hard. Lyra _had_ to have her brother stored in her address book somewhere. _Hmmm_. Lyra had kind of a creative mind for her contact names. Harry was just 'Harry BF', but others were stuff like 'skankpsy101' or "losernbr2". Then he noticed under B:

-BroAssface 3

-BroAsstwat

-BroFuckhead

-BroFucktard

-BroJerkoff

Lyra had five brothers, so Draco was probably among them. Supposedly, Draco was her favourite brother therefore the 3, but if he was not?

He glanced at the bathroom and braced himself to do something even worse: check her texts. Lucky for him and his guilty conscience, he found 'BroAssface 3' texts first on the list:

 **[4:57 PM] BroAssface 3: bitch where the fuck r u?**

 **[5:01 PM]: with my fucking bf, library. Y?**

There was no reply, of course. That was when Draco had turned up with the lecture notes. Ok, it was definitely Draco. He was almost tempted to see if Draco had ever asked anything about him but he wisely decided otherwise and just scribbled the number down on his napkin instead. Wisely, because as soon as Harry had dropped the cell phone into the bag, Lyra showed up.

Harry almost had a heart attack.

"Fuck! Why girls take so long to pee? There was a long ass line!" she cried in annoyance, plopping down next to him. She didn't even noticed Harry's visibly guilty face as she called for the waiter.

And that's how, two days later, Harry was fidgeting over texting Draco.

He was sitting on a bench in the park, breathing in the glacial air that he'd stupidly thought might calm him down. Instead, he was just gritting his teeth while his feet bounced up and down so hard he was probably creating an earthquake somewhere on the other side of the world.

"Come the fuck on…" he told himself angrily, tapping out a short text with his un-gloved fingers.

 **[11:45 AM]: hey it's Harry. Got ur nbr from Lyra**

 **[11:45 AM]: Harry Potter.**

Instead of waiting outside for a reply, Harry decided to head back inside. He could be waiting minutes but he could be waiting hours, maybe forever, and it really was too fucking cold out there.

In reality, Harry didn't even need to wait fifteen minutes before his phone vibrated. He was holding a cup of hot chocolate when he felt the buzzing in his pocket, and he almost dropped the steaming drink in response.

He gingerly opened the phone to read the text.

 **[11:56 AM] DracoM: I know who the fuck u are. U fucking asked sis for my nbr?**

 _Oh. Fuck._

 **[11:58 AM]: No No! I'm not stupid. Looked through her phone**

 **[11:59 AM] DracoM: ur a stalker then?**

 **[11:59 AM]: Fuck no! Need to see you.**

 **[12:00 AM] DracoM: Can't keep it in your pants uh?**

Before Harry could figure out a response Draco added.

 **[12:00 AM] DracoM: K. meet you in 20. Where last time**

Harry trashed the chocolate and hurried to the janitor's closet, a wide grin on his face.

When he arrived, Draco was still not there.

Harry glanced at his watch. It had definitely been twenty minutes by now. Did Draco already leave? Was he on his way? Was he not coming after all?

The blizzard in Harry's mind dissipated the second he registered Draco strutting cockily towards him. He had such a smirk on his face, a "What should I do with ya, can't get enough of my ass, uh?" smirk. Harry rolled his eyes. While it may be technically true, it didn't sit well with Harry to appear so desperate. He had always been the one the other guys begged for a fuck.

"Uh, hi Draco…" started Harry.

"Yeah, get inside." He brusquely told Harry.

Harry had already unlocked the door before and just entered, quickly followed by Draco.

Now, in the dim light of the closet, Draco looked at him and licked his bottom lip. Harry was instantly turned on

"Let's get down to business," said Draco, already unbuckling his belt and dropping his pants down. Harry was so engrossed watching him that he almost forgot what he wanted to say.

"Why are you still dressed? I'm not gonna dry hump ya."

Harry vehemently shook his head.

"I- wait-!" Harry fumbled at his own pant and boxers as he spoke, pushing them down around his ankles. "It's just; I have something to give you."

"Yeah, that's exactly why we're here, Pots," answered Draco, glancing down at the mentioned fire crotch. Harry was already semi-hard just from their exchange.

Still, Harry couldn't stop himself from babbling on, because he was notoriously bad at understanding when to shut the fuck up. He was about as good at that as playing it cool.

"I meant the key…" Harry mumbled, fumbling through the jeans he had just discarded on the floor to pull out the key triumphantly.

Draco looked at Harry like he was slow. Took the key and dropped it somewhere close to his bag.

"Ok, now that this important task is done, shall we fuck?"

Harry didn't even have time to reply before Draco was on him. Not kissing him. After Draco's threat the last time they were together, it was clear as day that he was not the kissing type. Harry loved it, but hell, if it meant hooking up with Draco, he could manage to go without.

Draco palmed Harry, stroking his cock until it grew to full erection. He looked pleased at Harry's fast reaction.

"Well I guess the key was not the only thing you wanted to give me…"

Harry couldn't help but grin, all his insecurities vanishing in the arousal of the moment.

"Nah, that's too small for you, you need something definitely way bigger than that."

"Aren't we confident, Pots," teased Draco, continuing to stroke him with a slow rhythm that was driving Harry mad.

"Shouldn't I be?" replied Harry, panting a little, voice definitely lower now.

Draco smirked, sliding his thumb along Harry's length, covering all its inches, and then pressing it against the slit, causing Harry to moan.

"Never said that."

Harry smiled and shoved Draco off him, to turn him against the shelves. Draco didn't protest. He bent over and eagerly spread his legs.

This was the third time they were fucking, and by now Harry had caught on that Draco liked to be treated a little rough. Harry still didn't know his boundaries, but he was looking forward to testing Draco's limits more and more with each encounter. He already knew that Draco liked it hard and fast; that he wanted Harry to press his fingers into his hips enough strongly to leave bruises. And that he seemed to get even more into it when Harry was covering his back with his chest.

Harry edged closer, kneading Draco's ass. Perfectly round and pale, just like he remembered…

"So? Get the fuck on me," urged Draco, waking Harry up from his thoughts of adoration for the bubble butt in front of him.

Harry leaned to grab the lube and a condom from his bag. He opened the lube, smearing part of it on his right hand. With the other hand he smacked Draco's left ass cheek.

"Aren't you eager," said Harry, almost expecting a negative reaction to the smacking but receiving none. If any, Draco bent over a little more.

"Yeah, whatever…" Draco's grumblings died on his tongue when Harry's first finger entered his ass. "Fuck!" that's what he said instead.

"Yeah, that's more like it," acknowledged the brunet, continuing with his preparation. At the third finger, Draco tried and failed to stifle a moan. After Harry slammed inside him with his first push, Draco didn't even try to suppress his grunts. Harry waited only a few moments for Draco to adjust before starting to thrust with an increasingly fast rhythm.

Harry decided to try investigate Draco's preferences further and leaned in, pressing his chest against the shorter guy's back. Draco thrust back against him with renovated vigour. _Ok, that was definitely one of Draco's things._ Harry still didn't dare touch anything but Draco's cock with his lips, but he could do something else.

"Mhm… Draco. So good…" Harry murmured husky into the other guy's ear. "So tight…"

"Shut… Shut the fuck up Potter, Mhm…" Harry could've sworn Draco had to stifle a whimper, if the sensation of his ass clenching harder around him was not proof enough.

Dirty talk could be a new thing? Harry didn't try to dig any further. Yet.

He pounded hard into Draco's ass, reaching around and stroking his cock when he felt Draco approaching his climax. The guy under him made a choking sound when he came; leaving Harry with a few thrusts before coming himself, quietly.

He pulled out after regaining his breath and removed the condom.

Silently they pulled up their boxers and pants. Draco had just opened the door when Harry caught his eye. He was smiling a shit-eating grin.

"Let me ask you a question: what's my name under your contacts? Pots?"

Draco shook his head, smirking. He shoved Harry out.

"Like hell I'm gonna do that. Ain't even put a name for you yet," he replied, showing Harry his phone. Harry's number was still not added.

"Aw, you need time to choose the right name for me? That's sweet," Harry teased him cockily.

"You wish," Draco said with a scoff.

Harry laughed rather than admit that yes, he wished that.

Little did they know that someone was watching them laughing and shoving each other.

Severus was passing through in that moment. Last year he had discovered that that hallway was the perfect shortcut to reach his favourite cafeteria from his office in half the time of his usual path. This time he discovered something else entirely.

As soon as he caught a glimpse of Draco and Harry he hid himself behind the corner, spying on them attentively. They both looked flushed, their necks sweaty and their clothes dishevelled. It didn't take a genius to understand the signs. Severus put two and two together, gritting his teeth as he watched them disappear. Their laughter echoing back down the hallway behind them.

Severus turned back to his office. His lunch could wait. First, he had to do something stupid.


	5. Christmas plans?

Today was going to be a good day. Harry decided that before he even opened his eyes.

It didn't matter that he had his last final in three hours and he still had to finish reading a book for it. It was a good day because the past week had been really nice, and tomorrow he was taking a flight to go see his family for the winter break. He felt pretty confident about exams he had already taken, and he had got laid the last two days in a row. By Draco, no less. On Wednesday they even had met twice.

He was feeling all warm and fuzzy inside.

Harry got up, stretching a little. He couldn't go running because it was too cold, and there wasn't time to go exercise at the rowing club, so he settled for a quick series of push-ups and sit-ups on his bedroom floor. He ate a protein bar and took his meds. Then he showered and with a sigh he opened his book. He could hear Ron swearing in the other room, and Harry guessed he was not the only one behind on studying for the finals.

He wanted to ask Ron about his plans for Christmas but it did not seem a very wise idea.

The last exam was trickier than Harry had expected, but he was confident he passed.

"Hey Harry, wait!" Seamus cried, running to catch up with Harry, who was already leaving the classroom. It was strange not to see Dean hovering over the blonde, but they didn't share that class.

"Oh hey, how did it go?" Harry asked him.

Seamus huffed. "Don't ask. I probably shouldn't have spent last night watching all those Friends reruns…"

Harry laughed. "Yeah, guess not."

They walked down the hallway together, Harry listening to Seamus talk about his plans for Christmas. His schedule seemed pretty full; except for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, he wasn't going to stay at home, but always at someone else's, reconnecting with his friends.

"I'm so gonna get laid!" Seamus crowed happily. He had been full of hope when he first arrived in college, but after meeting Dean, his chance of fucking around randomly had been reduced to non-existent. In Seamus' opinion, Dean was a cock-block who couldn't mind his own business, but Harry would see the death glare Dean aimed at any guy who got too close to Seamus, and knew his motivation was slightly different.

"And you? What are you going to do?" asked Seamus curiously.

Harry shrugged. "The usual. Be with my family; maybe see a couple of friends… Mostly I think I'll just relax, ride a horse, find out if I'm still crap at that."

"I'm sure you don't have any problem mounting." Seamus commented with a nasty grin. Harry shoved him carefully. Last time he had used a little more force, and Seamus had complained the whole day about his excruciating pain.

"Any plans for New Year's Eve?"

"I still don't know," Harry replied. In his mind, he had pretty much decided what he wanted to do, and with whom. He still needed confirmation on his counterpart, though.

"Are you kidding? New Year's eve is like the most important holiday ever." Seamus retorted in disbelief. "You need to be fucking at midnight, 'cause if you fuck on the New Year it means you'll fuck the whole year to come."

That was Harry's plan exactly. "We'll see," he replied.

"Well, I'm heading to New York with a bunch of friends. There's this huge party, and Parvati already told me she'll introduce me to one of her handsome model friends. I'm so excited and…" Seamus started rambling about what he was _'_ _so going to do at that party' ,_ and Harry applied the ancient Buddhist technique of not-giving-a-fuck, which consisted of nodding and smiling to Seamus while letting his mind wander everywhere but there.

"Harry!" Lyra waved her hand from the table she was sitting at in the crowded bar. They had decided to have a drink together before saying goodbye until January.

Harry settled into the seat across from her, smiling in greeting.

"Can't believe this nightmare is finally over," commented Lyra as she glanced over the menu. "I'm not sure how I did, but it can't be that bad."

"Yeah, me too… And now I'm starving and thirsty."

The waiter chose that exact moment to take their orders. Lucky fuckers.

Harry let Lyra order because he trusted her taste and she knew he couldn't drink anything too heavy. What the waiter brought him had a nice, warm colour and it tasted sweet and a little sour; she had made a good choice as usual.

"So," Lyra began, while sucking on her straw. "Excited to see your family?"

Harry smiled a big one. "Yeah. Especially my niece."

He had fucking sparkles in his eyes when he took out his phone and let Lyra check Emily's hundreds of photos. "Isn't she the cutest fucking thing ever?"

Lyra sighed affectionately. Harry was a complete sucker for his niece and she could understand why. That little kid was so cute and plump, with big dark eyes and reddish hair, all curly and soft.

"She got another dress, I see." Lyra answered indulgently.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Don't even start. I always tell Hannah; she's not a doll!"

"Well she looks like a doll. I would love to pinch those rosy cheeks."

"Then why don't you come over for Christmas?" Harry blurted out. He hadn't thought about it before, but why not? His family would love to meet his best friend, and Lyra hadn't seemed very enthusiastic about going back home.

Lyra looked surprised. "What?"

"Why not? We could have fun! I could teach you… well, Ray could teach you to ride a horse." Harry was already imagining having fun with Lyra, but she seemed to have reservations.

"Look, Harry. I would love to spend Christmas at you house, but I can't." She seemed so deeply sorry that Harry didn't try to insist.

"You have some kind of Christmas tradition at the Malfoy's?"

Lyra's laugh was bitter. "Not really. The biggest celebration is on Christmas Eve, but it's not a family thing. It's this big, luxurious party hosted at the house. Father shows off his wealth, as well as his sons, especially Draco, since Pops thinks he needs to 'broaden his network of connections'." She grimaced. "My role is to be the perfect daughter and maybe meet my future fucking husband."

"Heavy." Harry didn't know how to reply.

"Heavy indeed. Especially when father gives you those glacial glares whenever you don't do it right…" Lyra shivered. "Christmas is no party but neither is a family lunch. It was, when there was mum, but now its people bringing Pops gifts, like the fucking Godfather! I'm supposed to be pretty and serious and receive every gift they give father. I couldn't do it the last two years, so this time I have to be there."

"The last two years?" Lyra was Harry's age, so there was a two-year gap between high-school and college. Harry had never asked what she had done during that time, since she never mentioned it.

"Uhm." She clearly hadn't expected that question. "I… was abroad."

"Oh. Nice," Harry replied after a pause. It was evident that it was not the truth, or at least not all of the truth, but he decided not to push her any further. If Lyra was not ready to tell him, he had to accept it. He didn't tell her everything about his manic episodes, his hallucinations, when he tried to kill himself. He told her some things, but never anything with too many details. They had bonded deeply and both of them had told each other intimate stuff, but they had always tried to keep a light tone.

Lyra shrugged. "Yeah…" Her voice trailed off into silence.

"When's your flight, then?" Harry asked, changing the subject.

"Uh, tomorrow afternoon, don't remember the time. Draco booked it."

"You're going back together?" Stupid question, yes. He already knew the answer.

"What do you think?" she smiled a little, looking at Harry like he was the biggest idiot alive.

"Yeah sorry." He munched on a chip. "I have my flight tomorrow afternoon too. Maybe we could share a taxi."

Lyra's smile grew wider. "Fuck yes. I'll have to deal with that fuck tard for the entire flight; at least I can speak with you on the taxi ride over to the airport."

Happiness regained, Lyra decided to celebrate by ordering another round of cocktails.

Harry came back home a little tipsy, but overall he was lucid. He stopped by his room to take his pills, and then headed out to knock on Ron's door.

He heard a muffled sound that could've been a "Come in", and decided to enter.

Ron was lying flat out on the bed, absolutely shattered. Ron grunted something, somehow managing to sit up.

"What d'you want…?" he asked, rubbing his eyes blearily.

"Uh, nothing. Just wanted to know when you're leaving…."

"Mornin'…" He yawned.

"… And what are your plans for Christmas?" Harry felt so stupid asking Ron about Christmas so late in the game. He had thought they would sit on the sofa, watching a TV series and talking about their plans for the break long ago.

"You wake me up for this shit?"

"Uh… Yeah? Sorry. Everything ok, though?"

"Just tired, haven't slept for two days." Ron looked like shit, but at least he could still speak without scrambling his words, so he was good. Probably.

"Well, ok then. Sleep, I'll just watch TV. Very low, don't worry."

Harry was almost closing the door when he heard;

"… Videogames."

"What?"

"My plans." Ron explained in a mumble, and then dozed off almost instantly.

Harry didn't even respond, closing the door quietly behind him.

Even if he was not ending his evening in the company of friends, Harry was still feeling fuzzy and warm inside.

The thought of what he was going to do the next morning put a little bit of excitement and nervousness in the mix.

Harry waved a catatonic Ron goodbye and Merry Christmas at 8am. It was 11 am when he finished packing his own duffel bag. It was quite light; he didn't need many things since he was going home.

His flight was at 4 pm and Lyra had texted him that morning that the Malfoy's flight was scheduled to take off half an hour earlier, so they were meeting at the west gate to take a taxi together.

There was just one thing Harry still needed to do before their meeting, so he dressed hurriedly and went out into the chilly weather.

The Slytherin house was a 10 minute walk from his place, but Harry didn't even notice. He was just thinking about what he was going to say to Draco.

As expected, the living room was silent and with only half the number of sleeping bodies than last time. That half was dead to the world after a party they had thrown to celebrate the ending of the finals and the beginning of winter break. Harry figured the other half was already home.

Hoping that Draco would be in his bedroom as before, Harry climbed the stairs quickly. He sighed with relief when he saw the shorter guy right where he wanted him to be. Well, not on the bed, but sprawled on the floor, his right hand clutching a sheet corner. Like he had tried with all his might to reach for the bed and climb on it, but then had collapsed in defeat.

There was something adorable about that pose that only a week before Harry would've found almost disgusting. But now? Now he just wanted to lie next to Draco and cuddle the shit out of him.

Or maybe…

Harry turned to the door, securely locking it. He removed his scarf, beanie, gloves and coat -the whole winter armour- and proceeded to kneel in front of Draco. He gingerly undressed the lower half of Draco's body, tugging off his boxers and beer-soaked jeans, uncovering his morning wood. Harry leaned down and placed himself in the middle of the other guy's legs.

Hopefully a morning blowjob would make Draco more complacent for what Harry wanted to ask him.

Harry went down on Draco. At first, he just gently placed a kiss on his inner thigh. No movement on Draco's part. Then he licked his cock to place a kiss on the head. Nothing but a murmur and legs spreading further apart. Harry took courage and started stroking the base, tightening his hold.

At that, Draco's eyes opened and the guy jumped back immediately.

"The fuck!" he exclaimed. Then, looking at Harry. "Potter?"

A strange sense of déjà-vu hit Harry, making him grin.

Draco pressed the palms of his hands to rub off his sleepiness, then looked at Harry with arched eyebrows.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

"Uh… a good morning bj?"

Draco's eyes darted to the door.

"I locked it, don't worry I'm not that stupid."

Draco visibly relaxed at that information, despite the roll of his eyebrows that told Harry he didn't necessarily agree with that statement. Draco yawned without covering his mouth and opened the nightstand drawer to fetch condom and lube. He tossed them on Harry's lap.

"Since you're already here…" He leaned back against the bed and spread his legs again.

Harry grinned wider, going down on him again. He started sucking, while using his fingers to prepare Draco to accommodate his size. Harry kept his eyes fixed on Draco, whose own eyes darted everywhere but the dark-haired boy. Draco had one of his elbows propped on the bed and bit his forearm to stifle his moans.

Harry was so turned on by the sight that he sped up the process, undressing in a flash and rolling the condom over his dick. Before Draco could turn over, Harry pushed him down so that Draco's back was flat on the carpet. He grabbed a pillow from the bed and positioned it under Draco's hips. Harry was sure that if Draco was not so drowsy, he would have put on a little fight for the choice of position. Instead, he was malleable in his hands and Harry exploited that to put one leg on his shoulder and the other behind the small of his back. He entered in that tight warmth, sighing in pleasure.

Since it seemed like the right moment, he tried to go slow. It wasn't exactly lazy morning sex, but the closest they could probably get. It was after Harry bottomed out, that Draco trailed his leg a little lower, pressing on his ass. That was his clue to "move fucking faster" and Harry's dream of intimate sex went out the window as he started to increase his rhythm. Not that Harry would complain anyway: sex with Draco was sex with Draco; he'd get what he could.

"Mh… Draco you're so…" he started, then stopped when Draco clenched around him because he had reached his orgasm. Harry was so fixed on looking at his face taken by the pleasure, that he didn't notice Draco stroking his own cock. Harry wanted it to last longer, he wanted to continue watching Draco's face while he was inside him, but climax came for Harry too, and he released inside the condom. He collapsed on Draco and the shorter guy let him. For like three seconds, then Harry had to lie down on his back to catch his breath.

"This is definitely a good morning," Draco commented, after regaining his voice.

"Definitely."

Draco didn't lose any more time and put on his sweats without bothering with the boxers. Unwillingly, Harry started to dress himself. He took the hint that Draco wanted him gone when Draco lit up a cigarette and told him

"See ya next year, Pots."

It was not what Harry wanted, but it was always better than "Fuck off" and that encouraged Harry to dare.

"What are you doing for New Year's eve?"

"Huh?" Draco shrugged, not even offering Harry a drag. "Guess I'll do some shit with my brothers. Get wasted… The usual."

"Sounds boring."

"Nah man. You haven't tried wasted until you try the Malfoy kind of wasted."

"But wouldn't you like to do something different?" Harry suggested.

At that, Draco took the cigarette out of his mouth, finally looking straight at Harry. "What the fuck are trying to say?"

Harry felt like he was walking on a landmine.

"Uhm, I was thinking about going skiing and…" He rubbed his neck, nervously. "And, you know, we could go together maybe? Not that you have to ski if you don't want to. Or if you don't like the mountain, I'm sure we do find something else…" Harry knew he was talking too fast, but he wanted to get it out of his system the sooner the better. Especially since Draco's expression didn't look very enthusiastic. "I mean, I know that we haven't been seeing each other for very long, but…"

"What?" Draco pinched his nose, and then lowered the hand to his mouth. He was smiling, but he didn't look happy. He looked baffled. "Sorry, but what do you think is going on here?"

Harry didn't like where that was going. "Well, we're seeing each other, we fuck, so…"

"That's right, Potter. We know each other exists and we fuck around. You're horny, I'm horny, we bang. That's all."

"But I thought-"

Draco didn't even let him finish. "No, you did not. Unless you have the brain of a fucking twelve year old little girl. Are you a little girl, Potter?"

"Hey that's not-"

Draco interrupted Harry again by shoving him against the door.

"Potter don't tell me I led you on, because I sure as fuck didn't. What didja think; we're boyfriend and girlfriend here? You're nothing but a warm mouth to me."

At these cruel words, Harry lowered his head, not wanting to look at Draco. His fists ached to punch Draco straight in the fucking face.

"Believe me; I'm doing you a fucking favour." Harry heard the sound of the door being unlocked. "I'm going to the kitchen now. Wait another fifteen minutes before leaving. Or climb out of the window. I don't care."

The door closed behind him.

Harry remained silent for a minute, gathering all his strength not to cry. He was strong, he had army training, Draco and he had been screwing for barely more than a week. It didn't mean anything.

Yet all he wanted to do was to break something. Dammit.

And he did.

He found Draco's laptop and crashed it on to the floor.

As soon as he heard the sound of the laptop shattering, Harry came back to his senses.

 _Fuck. Fuck. FUCK._

He needed to calm the fuck down.

He breathed. _One, two three, four…_

Again. And again.

Harry opened the door. The hell with Draco's fifteen minutes. He climbed down the stairs so fast that he was out of that house in less than a minute.

When he got outside, he was finally able to breathe.

"Where the fuck is he?" Lyra huffed, making a perfect chipmunk face that everybody else but Draco would have deemed adorable. "He should've been here like twenty minutes ago!"

Draco was on his fourth cigarette, and he passed one to the taxi driver waiting with them.

"I guess he's going on his own," Draco suggested.

"Maybe you're right, but he should've told me! How difficult is it to send a fucking text?!" Lyra tried to call Harry again. It was the nth time she was trying to reach him. She sighed again when the call went to the answering machine.

"Not responding?"

"Whatcha think?" She was worried now. "What if we go to his apartment? I think I know where it is."

"Yeah, not gonna happen. We're already late. If we miss the flight I'm not the one explaining the reason to Pops."

"The hell!" she retorted, but she nodded reluctantly. "Ok, let's go…"

She was still not convinced that Harry wasn't coming when they got in the car, and even when they started to move, she pressed her head to the back window to see if Harry was running after them.

Draco turned her around.

"C'mon Lyra, he's a grown ass man, I'm sure he knows how to take a taxi."

"Yeah I know that but-"

"No buts. He'll call you as soon as you can."

Lyra fell silent and closed her eyes, resting her head on the backseat. It was only then that Draco dared to look back himself. No redhead in sight.

It didn't take a genius to know the reason why Harry hadn't shown up.

"Fuck you, Potter…" he muttered to himself, and closed his eyes.


	6. A Potter Christmas

The plane was landing at the London Airport while Harry was doing his breathing exercise.

 _One two three…_

The middle-aged woman seated next to him placed her hand on top of Harry's.

"Don't you worry, sweetheart. Is it your first flight?" she asked. She probably thought Harry was scared the plane was about to crash or something.

Harry tried to smile at her and nodded. He didn't want to engage in a conversation right now.

He knew it was stupid to be still upset about Draco's words, but they hurt nevertheless. The previous afternoon he had been scared he was losing his mind. He hadn't even replied to Lyra's calls and had booked another flight for the morning after. That night Harry had called his psychotherapist and had released his vomit of words. She had listened to him patiently in silence and when she couldn't hear anything on the other side, she started to speak. With her soothing, sweet voice Luna had helped Harry to release the tension, concentrate on her tone of voice and do his breathing exercise. She didn't deem necessary to change his meds prescription since they had worked so far so good, but his doctor would've done it if Harry felt so upset again. In that specific case Harry's reaction had been intense, due by this Draco rude rejection, but Harry had been able to walk through it. Always better to keep it monitored, anyway. She had also added to update his journal daily and to come see her right after the break. Half an hour later, the call was disconnected.

The plane landed and Harry tried to focus on the prospect of seeing his family. They hadn't told him, but he was sure they were all outside waiting for him with a fucking banner.

Harry went through the gate and there they were. It was not that difficult to notice his family: a large group of loud people… with a fucking banner with them. The caption: 'WE MISSED YOU!' He noticed that there was another word written below it, but it was covered by paint (he'd later discovered that they had used the same banner for Justin's arrival and the complete original sentence was "WE MISSED YOU ASSHOLE").

Between embarrassment and delight, Harry joined his siblings. He had thought he would've worried them with his bad mood, but he discovered that the mere sight of his family caused him to naturally smile. He really missed them.

Harry went straight to his siblings, but before the hug-time, he let his head wander, like he was looking for something.

"What is it?" asked Hermione, worried. "If you're looking for Hannah, she's at home with Emily."

"Where's Billy? I wanted him to be the first I hug today," replied Harry with a shit eating grin.

Hermione punched him straight to his shoulders.

"Dumbass…" Then hugged him tightly. It seemed that the gesture was perceived by the rest of the Potters as a signal and they all wrapped their arms around him and Hermione. It was difficult to breathe, but he decided he could suffer a little more if that was the price to pay to be with his family again.

"I missed you too guys," Harry said. He looked down, noticing that Riley was still pressed against him, his index firmly locked in one loop of his jeans. He gently caressed the curly top of his baby brother's hair.

Dudley elbowed Justin in the ribs. "See? That's what you were supposed to say."

Justin rolled up his eyes.

"What did he say then?" asked Harry, looking at Justin who shrugged.

"Nothing. He was so embarrassed that he turned around to get back on the plane. Like we don't do this every year."

Harry laughed. That was totally Justin. He wrapped an arm around the older brother shoulders, noticing how thin he was.

"You eat there, yes?"

"Fucking hell!" Justin glared at Hermione, who was laughing. "Not you too! I'm fucking stressed in this period, alright?"

Harry nodded, giving Justin a pat on the back. "That's fine. Easier for me to beat the shit out of you, big bro."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Can we get the fuck outta here? I need a fucking smoke."

The ride took an hour, but Harry was patient. He relaxed looking out of the lowered window, falling asleep in the middle of the sound of his family's loud voices. His siblings didn't try to wake him up, they guessed he must have had fun partying the night before.

When they arrived at the ranch, they let Harry nap for a little while. Grinning like idiots they took Billy's rein, bringing him closer to the car…

"THE FUCK!" Harry shouted, when Billy pressed his wet nose against his cheek and woke him up. The pony seemed to whinny quite happily when Harry looked at him. His siblings were laughing, but Harry's face softened when the pony put his muzzle against his forehead, giving it a little bump. Maybe Harry was joking earlier with Hermione, but he had really missed that fucking animal. Billy had been bought as a birthday gift to Hannah, which she had appreciated until she had discovered guys and joined a bad company of friends. Later, Billy had helped Harry when he had come back from the hospital; he would always accompany his master for his running or simply walking along side him.

Harry got out of the car to properly pet the pony, until he received a loud "AHEM!" He turned round to see Hannah holding the baby, who not even a year old, already possessed more photos than a top model.

Harry's smile doubled.

"Who's my favourite niece!" he was already making stupid faces, he knew that. But he really couldn't help it when that dolly was already giggling and pointing her arms towards her uncle (favourite uncle as well, of course). When Hannah was pregnant Harry hadn't been there for her, but he had seen Emily being born and he had loved that baby with all his might ever since.

Harry reached for Emily and leaned enough to kiss his youngest sister on her cheek. Then snatched his niece from her arms and started kissing the squiggling baby.

"Yes I missed you too, baby girl!" kisses and kisses and kisses. All on Emily's face.

"Tsk, she gets all those kisses and all I get is a peck on the cheek? She's such a prima donna!" Hannah pouted, to smirk ten seconds later and take Emily back. "So? Isn't she the cutest?"

She began talking no-stop about her daughter all the way to Harry's bedroom. He forgot the duffel bag back in the car but he was sure somebody was retrieving it anyway. Hannah didn't even notice Harry's yawns and she had to be dragged back in the living room to let Harry sleep a little.

Christmas Eve's dinner was being held in the barn. It was the only closed space big enough to fit everyone in. It was not just the Potter's; Hermione had invited her boyfriend Ray, the other cowboys and workers at the ranch, plus some of their neighbours. Almost everyone was there, except the Balls, who were coming the day after. Hermione was all smiles and they were actually genuine. The Potter family had moved in London almost four years ago and Hermione was well acquainted with all of those people by now. Once she had even dared to enter a contest for the best pecan pie and she was still embarrassed to look at the framed picture with her certificate of participation in her hands, covered with flour from head to toe and egg white in her hair.

Harry was standing next to Justin, the both of them the most out of place of the group. Justin was always at Caltech or shut in some of his friends' garage to build something that had to do with robotics (nobody in his family understood what the hell was he studying and nobody cared as long as he was happy and less of a douche bag). Harry had been away for just four months, but before he had been too engrossed with thoughts of West Point, then he had been diagnosed with bipolar and he had isolated himself when once he had started taking meds.

Things began to change when Hermione invited everyone to take a seat. Hannah had crafted placeholders together with Riley (while trying to keep Emily away from scissors and glue) and Harry went in search of his. His seat was between Justin (thank fuck) and a guy he didn't know: he was dressed up for the occasion and turned to smile at Harry. A really flashy white one. He was heavily tan, like Ray and the other boys and shook hands with Harry.

"Timothy. My friends call me TJ."

"So I need to call you Timothy?" asked Harry with a grin.

"Nah, you're Hermione's brother, you're already my friend," he replied. Harry noticed that they had held hands for a little too long and turned his head to look at Hermione, who was smiling at him and made the heart sign with her fingers. Fucking matchmaker.

"So, are you one of Ray's guys?" Harry gave TJ all his attention, completely ignoring his sister.

"Yep. Just started two months ago. Before I worked in another ranch, but the owners were, ugh, let's say they weren't nice to work for, you know."

"They can't be worse than Hermione, she's such a nagger sometimes," Harry joked.

TJ laughed, agreeing with Harry, but he added "Yeah, but at least Hermione and the others are okay with me being gay."

Harry felt a mixture of pity, because if South Side was not gay friendly, he couldn't imagine in a ranch in London, but at the same time he was a little annoyed that TJ had already put his cards on the table (especially since he was blatantly checking Harry out with appreciation). Still, TJ was an eye candy. Muscular and with a handsome face, a veiled stubble that was a failed attempt at making him appear older and rougher; his blonde hair would tend to fall down on his eyes, just like Harry's red one. Overall, he seemed fucking nice (not _like someone else… Dammit Harry, get a grip!_ ). Harry discovered how fun TJ was during the dinner and he was so engrossed in a conversation with him that he didn't notice Dudley on the other side.

The younger brother was constantly checking his phone, with a mischievous grin plastered on his face. Justin kicked him under the table, looking at him with a glare that usually meant "What the fuck are you planning?" Dudley shrugged and continued to look at his phone.

They were almost at the end of the dinner, when Hermione got up and clinked on the glass filled with champagne. She appeared nervous and she was smiling like a little girl who was dying to tell a secret.

"Ah uhm." She began. She looked down at Ray, who was smiling just like she was. "Here we are, in such a nice evening, celebrating Christmas Eve. I'm so happy that you're all gathered at this table-"

"Cut the crap, 'Mione!" shouted Justin from his seat. Some people frowned at him, but Hermione scowled at him with benevolence.

"Ok, Ray and I are engaged!" Hermione exclaimed happily. Ray rose up to embrace her. "And fuck you, Justin!"

She almost didn't finish her sentence that Ray was already eating her face, surrounded by cheering and whoop whoops!

They were all so happy for them. Harry couldn't stop smiling. After that bastard Cormac she had been so scared at the idea of a long term relationship that he had feared everlasting spinsterhood for his sister.

While they were all clapping, they didn't hear the barn door being suddenly shoved open. A man that was the stereotype of a Texan pure-breed, with hat and spurs, barged in the barn armed with a rifle. He shouted.

"DUDLEY POTTER!"

Everybody froze at the sight of the mad man. Except for the wanted Dudley Potter, who jumped from his seat and started running towards the other exit.

"You're a dead man, Potter!" the man with the rifle chased after him. A loud 'BANG!' resonated in the barn. They all ducked down. It was only thanks to Harry's and TJ's reflexes that he was tackled to the ground before he could actually shoot somebody. The man tried to free himself from TJ's grip, but it was all for nothing. Harry stood up to grab the rifle, opening it to take out the cartridges left. He tossed the weapon somewhere on the hay.

Out of the corner of his eyes, Harry saw Dudley behind a ball of hay. He was fucking texting, all calm and shit.

"Dudley! Get the fuck out of there!" he shouted.

Dudley glanced one more time at his phone, and then pocked it in his pants. He approached Harry.

The older brother pointed at the man, who was sending death glares at Dudley.

"Can you please explain what the fuck does he want from you? Apart from your death."

Before Dudley could answer, the man spoke. He looked like a rabid dog and he spat "This fucker knocked up my daughter!"

Now all the stares were definitely on Dudley, who just shrugged. Hermione was with her hands on her face. No way, she couldn't have another sibling as a teen parent. Dudley was just fucking fifteen! She thought he was all sports cars and stealing/destroying stuff with his good for nothing friends!

"What the hell, Dudley!" she exclaimed, gripping Ray's forearm so tightly that even that big guy was flinching under it.

Even under the hostile stares from that man and his oldest sister, Dudley seemed composed and… rather pleased?

TJ let the man to stand up, but always keeping his hands behind the back.

"This… this devil took my daughter's precious innocence!" he cried. "She was supposed to remain pure until her wedding. You've ruined her! She'll never find a good man in our church now!"

Harry's eyes widened. What had Dudley gotten himself into?

"Uh, are you one of that church up the hill?" someone asked. Nobody said "that church full of integrals bigots?"

The man tried to give himself an air of composure. His eyes never leaving the totally relaxed Dudley. "Thomas Richards, of the Reformed Church of Saint Euthalia. This… this…" He pointed Dudley with his chin. "He seduced my Cassie and now she's ruined!"

Justin scratched his temple, coming forward. "So… Dudley is our brother. There's no way in hell that we're going to let you shoot him. Your daughter is already pregnant. We're in a bit of a stalemate, here."

Thomas breathed in and out. It looked like he was about to pass out (or going berserk and kill Dudley). In the end he spoke

"He needs to marry my daughter." Now he surely got all people shocked attention. "It's already terrible that she conceived the baby outside of marriage, but I'm not going to let her give birth to a bastard! At least your brother was baptized in the name of the Lord… YOU! You have to marry her, or else-"

"Okay, I'll do it." Dudley simply replied.

"WHAT!" it was the general comment of everybody at that eventful dinner.

But the one who was more surprised was Thomas, who hadn't expected Dudley to give up so easily.

"Really? You'll marry my daughter?"

Dudley simply looked at him. "Yes, please."

At that, the man visibly relaxed, like just in that moment he had realized how tired he was. TJ released him, always watching out for sudden moves. The only move that Thomas made, though, was too held out his calloused hand to Dudley.

"Do I have your word?"

"I'll marry Cassie, sir."

"Good. Good…. Son," Even Thomas seemed to think how weird it was calling Dudley that. "But if you're lying…"

"I'm not."

The man nodded. He scratched his cheek, trying to think what else could be said, but evidently there was nothing to add. He retreated, reaching for the door.

"So, uh… have a good Christmas Eve, y'all." With that, he awkwardly closed the door behind him.

Now all the stares were once again back to Dudley.

"WHAT THE FUCK DUDLEY!" shouted all Potters (well, except for Riley and Emily).

Dudley tried to put on his best innocent smile. Unfortunately, there was nothing innocent in it.

"Let me explain…"

"You bet you have to explain!" Hermione was already walking towards him. She still had to decide if she wanted to punch or hug him. A regular indecision when it came to Dudley.

"I didn't knock her up. But I did pluck her cherry," Dudley said, wiggling his eyebrows with a big shit eating grin.

"Then why didn't you say it! You'll have to marry her now!" Hannah asked.

Dudley shrugged. "You have seen her father? He didn't even let us be closer than five feet and only under his supervision. Cassie always has to sneak out to see me. We talked about it and this way is easier. She told her father not even an hour ago. The truth is going to come out after the fake shotgun weeding."

"So you're really going to marry her?"

"Yep." After seeing Dudley contented smile, nobody could really say anything else. They all knew that Dudley was always ready to go great lengths for the people he loved and that once he was set on something, nothing could make him change his mind.

"I… I…." Hermione sighed. Then brought her hands up in the air and walked back to her seat.

"Well, congratulations little bro," Justin said, accompanying Hannah to their places.

When there were just Harry and Dudley, the younger brother added.

"Her family is a nightmare. I _had_ to get her out of there. I mean, this was the least bloody solution we could come up with."

Harry simply nodded, patting his brother's shoulder.

"You're not going to hear complaints from me. I'm just curious to meet this lady."

Dudley grinned. "She's going to have lunch with us tomorrow. Hermione still doesn't know, though."

Harry choked a laugh.

They all raised their glasses up again. This time to celebrate two engagements.

Christmas lunch was more intimate. A part from the Potters, the others participants were Ray and Cassie. Vee and family were on their way there.

As was expected, the siblings were assessing Cassie from head to toe. At first glance, that girl looked like an angelic creature. She was pale and skinny and with long, blond curly hair gathered in a long side braid; cerulean eyes under eyelids not touched by any hint of make-up. She wore a white shirt under a pallid pink cardigan and a long ivory skirt embroidered with flowery patterns. Nobody could see Cassie and Dudley together. Then the girl bent over to grab the roasted potatoes from the oven and it was hard not to notice the beginning of a flashy red thong coming out from the skirt waistline. Not to mention the bow tattoo partially covered by it. Dudley had told Harry and Justin that Cassie had three tats and two piercings. And none of the latter was visible on the face. It kind of raised a certain curiosity of where they might be hidden.

When seated, Dudley affectionately put a hand on her thigh and she kissed him on the cheek. Ray and Hermione, who was finally wearing her engagement ring, were still in the kitchen, so in love it was almost disgusting. Harry looked at Riley, who was happily drawing, close to Hannah. The youngest sister had Emily on her lap, lovingly tying up her thin hair in a small tail on the top of her head. Justin was up close to the window. He was certainly talking to his kind of a girlfriend, a married teacher who –at least in Harry's opinion- was leading him on telling him that she would leave her husband. Still, all of his siblings were happy and in love (with a lover, a daughter or fucking crayons). Harry was the only one alone and he almost regretted breaking up with Severus. His thoughts went to Draco, though, and he blamed himself for the stupid decision of asking Draco out for New Year. What an idiot.

Harry's thoughts vanished the moment Vee and Kev stumbled in. Vee had her twins' hands each in one of hers, while Kevin had a passed out James on his back.

"James?!"

Hermione got up, surprised by James presence as well as the others. More than a year had passed since they had last seen him and they were pretty happy about it. The last time they had heard of James, he was scamming some folks in a rehab clinic for celebrities and wealthy people.

"Found the poor bastard sprawled next to your gate," explained Kev.

They decided to put James on the living room sofa and went back to the lunchroom. They were in silence for a second or two before Hermione returned to smile.

"Well I guess that now there's really everyone." She hugged Vee tightly, and then invited everyone to sit down and enjoy their meal.

They were at the dessert, with Ray gone out to check on a newborn horse, when James dragged himself in to the room.

"Well? Nobody's offering anything to their old man?" he slumbered. "I want to have a nice Christmas meal with my fucking family, is it too much to ask?"

"Since your Christmas meal is usually whiskey, no. We got only one bottle and we want to keep it to ourselves," replied Justin, not even looking at his dad.

"You ungrateful little shit, is it the way you talk to your generous father?"

Justin snickered. "C'mon James, just get the hell out of here."

The others were not saying anything, but their looks made clear they were all thinking the same thing.

"What! Nobody to defend their dad?" He looked down on Emily seated on her high chair. "And who are you supposed to be? I don't remember having a daughter this young."

Hannah protectively took Emily to hold her tightly. "This is _my_ daughter. Don't even try to touch her, James."

What James did touch was the bottle of whiskey on the table. Justin rolled his eyes.

"You know a part from discovering I'm a grandpa. I really don't get it." He gulped down the liquor. "Why do you have to be so mean to me? After everything I've done for you. I've provided you with such a nice roof over your head… I'm the bread winner of this household!"

At that Hermione stood up again, going straight to James and pocking her index at his grimy clothed chest repeatedly.

"The bread fucking winner? You never did shit for this family!"

"Oh, really?" James took another sip. "Who did you think gave you the money?"

"You didn't give us the money! You didn't do fuck but finding a damn lottery ticket on the floor of Kev's pub!" Hermione blurted out. "You found the ticket and you forgot about it when you were passed out on our couch. It was just thanks to Riley who grabbed the ticket before I tossed out your stinky clothes!"

Harry turned his head to look at the lottery ticket, framed against the wall. Hermione was such a sentimental sap. She had to keep it to always remember how that changed their lives. In a way James helped with that, but as an unknown carrier (like the time he owned money to some drug dealer and they drugged him up, sent to Mexico to come back full of cocaine up his ass. He was drunk at the time and he didn't notice much until he had to shit out all the drug bags). James had been so passed out that night at the Alibi that he had taken the ticket thinking it was a dollar bill. He had put it into his jeans pocket and forgot about it. It was only when Riley had started to play with that ticket that Justin had noticed it and they had thought "What the hell, we may as well check the numbers". Harry had been fourteen when money had started flowing in their lives. At that time he had thought that had to be the biggest life change in his life. Until his Bipolar disorder diagnosis, that was.

"So what? Didn't I earn some gratitude?" James replied.

"We gave you enough gratitude, James." Harry stepped up, next to Hermione "And you fucking lost it in ten days. How it's even possible to lose that much money in ten fucking days!"

"I had to settle my debts like an honourable man." His high and mighty speech ruined by the way he was guzzling at the bottle.

"Yeah, more like you went to the Alibi to buy a round of Kev's finest whiskey for everyone and your creditors caught up with you." Harry sneered.

James looked at Kev who was trying so hard to mind his own business.

"You told 'em? You traitor! I thought we were friends."

"No James, you were my client and not even a good one. Anyways, everybody knows what happened. They talked about it for days."

"… Well, it doesn't matter. That's all in the past." James shrugged. "I simply wanted to see my loving family that I dearly missed."

"We didn't miss you, though," said Justin. "But now you've seen us, so can you go the fuck away? You're spoiling our dessert."

As a reply, James took his oldest son's plate and gulped the dessert down. Justin shook his head, like he found the whole situation almost funny in the end.

"Anyway. This is my house-"

"Your names not even on it," said Justin.

James didn't even flinch. "So I'm so sorry if you don't like it, but I'm going to stay here as long as I like."

"In your dreams, James!" shouted Hannah. "I'm not going to let your drunken ass near my baby!"

"What?! A kid needs her grandfather! To settle a good example…"

Harry and Justin's laughter distracted James's rumbling. Offended, he smashed the wine bottle, trying to be menacing. Both his kids knew he was not going to use it, but someone else didn't. Swift like a snake, the angelic blonde, who until that moment had seemed totally captivated by Dudley, got up behind James and chopped at the nape of his neck with her hand. James instantly dropped on the floor.

They all stared at Cassie in disbelief.

"What? A girl needs to know how to defend her purity," she replied with a smile. Dudley was glowing with pride and kissed her deeply the moment he got a hold of her.

"Is he dead?" asked Riley, poking James with one foot.

"Nah little man, just fainted," said Cassie in a soft voice dedicated only to children.

Those words seemed enough for Riley. Also for all the others, who relaxed and finished their dessert.

Ray came inside only to find them laughing with chocolate smeared teeth and a passed out James lying next to the table.

"Did I miss something?"

The others just shrugged. Hermione made him sit down next to her and gave him a sweet kiss.

"I'll tell you later."

At night James was already gone. Ray, accompanied by Kev, had thrown him in the truck to drop the drunkard in a rehab quite far from there.

Justin was gone too, called by some of his colleagues for 'an emergency at the lab'. Nobody knew what the problem was and nobody wanted to know. They had waved Justin goodbye as the taxi arrived and they had gone inside.

Riley was put to bed together with Gemma and Amy and Hannah took Emily to have a warm bath with her. Cassie and Dudley were nowhere to be found.

In the living room remained only Hermione, Vee and Harry. Of course, since it was a gay man against two curios ladies, Harry soon became the object of their attention. And for attention it actually meant:

"So, Harry any boys in your life?"

 _Of fucking course._

Harry knew it was useless to hide something from them. One was one thing, but the two of them together were the Spanish fucking Inquisition. It was better to tell the truth, like ripping off a band aid. He just braced himself.

"Okay. There's this guy-"

"I like it already!" Vee shouted.

"Not really…"

At that, both of them became serious. Harry sighed.

"He's gay but in the closet. I mean, the majority of our encounters were literally in a fucking closet. Our first time was unexpected, I didn't think he was gay, but after, you know. He's really cute. But also violent and beat other gays up. His family is shit. Rich shit but still shit nonetheless. And it was even fine…. Yeah I know Hermione, don't look at me like that. Problem is that I thought there was more even though it was just for a week and I got carried away. I asked him to do something together for New Year and he told me… well let's just say that he made abundantly clear that he's not interested in more than fucking. And I can't have that. Not only that."

It was a long speech, but even Harry realized there was really nothing in it. That speech didn't contain the hope for a relationship or a little bit of interest from Draco's part. It was only the story of a one-week fling.

Hermione looked at Vee, who nodded. The hell, did they communicate telepathically? Girls.

"Sweetie. You know we just want the best for you and this guy… It doesn't seem like it. He's toxic for you. It would be maybe another thing if he was into you but he clearly is not. So let me ask you this: do you even like him?"

Harry remained silent, thinking about it. "No." He said at first. "I mean, I thought I did, but he was the first guy I had an interest in since…"

Hermione and Vee nodded. "You're not going to try anything with him, then?" asked Vee.

Harry shrugged. "I guess it's better if I don't."

He received a slap on the back from Vee.

"That's my baby! Stay away from him and everything will be fine." Then she looked at Hermione. "And you, girl? Nothing to say about your hot fiancé?"

Harry stopped paying attention to them. He was thinking of this Draco situation. He knew Draco was probably not worth it and that they spend such a short time together, but Harry wanted so much to know more about the blue-eyed guy. He shook his head. Vee and Hermione were right. To get over with him, it was better to stay away from him.

Harry thought of a way to get over someone as fast as possible.

After half an hour, Harry got out from the house, telling the girls he was going to see the horses.

He walked for about fifteen minute, enjoying the starry night above him.

Until his green eyes met hazel ones.

TJ smiled at Harry, kicking at the ground with his boot. Harry approached, leaning on the fence.

"Thought you weren't coming," said TJ.

"Me too. I changed my mind." Harry kicked his knee against TJ's.

TJ had gotten Harry's number the night before. The excuse was to bring him to visit the ranch and its surroundings, but they both knew he actually meant. That was why Harry had told him that he was "kind of seeing someone else". After lunch, TJ had sent him a message telling him to meet that night "to see the shooting stars". At first, Harry had thought he was annoying and obstinate, but after the chat with Hermione and Vee he had decided to give it a try.

"So, want to see the stars?" asked TJ, coming closer.

"If by that you mean sex, yes," Harry replied, gripping him by his ass.


	7. A Malfoy Christmas

When the siblings arrived in Essex, nobody but their father's driver was there, holding a white sheet of paper with 'MALFOY' written on it. That wasn't surprising. Lucius Malfoy had never come once to see one of his sons at the airport and their brothers couldn't be there. Draco, the youngest, had to remain in Boston until Christmas Eve because he was the newbie at his law firm, Cyprus was still in Washington D.C. and Ara… well Ara was in Chicago, but he was always following their father around like an idiotic puppy.

They went straight to the driver, who promptly greeted them

"Welcome home."

Draco snorted. "Yeah, home sweet home, indeed."

At home, there was no one except for the help. Draco and Lyra were happy to see some familiar faces, like the cook, a good-humoured woman who had always had a soft spot for those two. She was the only one who dared to hug them.

"Welcome home," she said.

Draco bitterly smiled at her. "It's good to see you."

They had to wait until dinner to see their father. Draco was a bundle of nerves and Lyra was fidgeting on the chair. They were waiting at the table for Lucius and Ara and they didn't know what to expect. That was Lyra's first time, of coming back from college. Draco was a veteran, but every time it got to him. Sitting close to him, Lyra could see him scrubbing his hands against his jeans, nervously. She could've bet they were all sweaty.

Finally, their father arrived, diligently followed by Ara. Their oldest brother was way bigger than Lucius, and there he was, behind him like a domesticated grizzly bear.

 _Probably a grizzly bear is more intelligent than Ara, though,_ thought Lyra. But her eyes, as Draco's, were fixed on their father.

His cruel eyes only lingered for a second on her. His attention landed wholly on Draco. Lyra hadn't known it was possible, but Draco's face became even paler.

"It's good to have you back, children," Lucius said. He appeared almost composed and went to sit at the head of the table. Ara seated on his right, Draco was on his left, shielding Lyra who sat next to him.

The maid brought them dinner. Probably Lucius wanted to keep Draco on edge at least until the end of their meal, but nobody could describe that man as patient. He was not a 'vengeance is a dish best served cold' kind of person, his vengeance, as well as any other reactions, was hot and bloody, and made of punches, and whippings, and terrible words.

"I heard from Calvin that you made good friends with his son, Junior," said Lucius.

Draco looked surprised to hear good words coming from their dad's mouth, but quickly recomposed himself.

"Yeah. Uhm, after you told me that you wanted me to get closer to the kid I let him win at poker a few times," replied Draco. From the way he fisted his left hand, Lyra could tell he was bracing himself for the calm before the storm.

"And yet Thompson was hesitant to strike a deal with Ara because you have brutally battered his son? What the fuck were you thinking?" Now the stare, from glacial was becoming hot and menacing.

"He was checking me out. He's a fucking fairy. He had it coming." Draco pressed his thumb on his bottom lip. Wrong move. It was a sign of nervousness. One that a predator like their father caught on immediately.

Lucius moved fast. He grabbed Draco by his shirt, spitting "I don't fucking care how many damn fags you bash, but you need to fucking get into that stupid head of yours that you can't beat up whoever you want. We have businesses with that family!"

Draco nodded. "Okay, Pops. Sorry." He tried to lean back, but Lucius didn't lose his grip.

"What do you think, uh? That I pay your college fees to let you have fun there? To get wasted? To ruin my business?" He pulled her brother closer to him with a jerk. "I give you a bright future and what do you do? You little piece of shit!"

Since that moment, Draco had tried to keep his eyes on Lucius's, but he had to lower them, unable to look directly at their father's fury.

"What the fuck did I do to have these good for nothing children?" Lucius dropped his strong grip on Draco, almost throwing him on his seat. "All dumb fuckers! Like this here," he pointed at Ara. "Can't do shit and I'm supposed to let him inherit the company? My guard dogs are more intelligent than him! Maybe I should make an exchange and put this twat in the doghouse!"

He wasn't even looking at Ara, but Lyra could see her brother shrinking, like he was a little child and not the Big Foot he was.

Lyra was trying to follow the example and hoped the floor would just open under her seat. But no, never so lucky.

"And then there's this junkie skank that made the most trouble!" Lyra shut up, but she dared to glare at her father, who gritted his teeth, but stopped ranting about his daughter. His attention was once again focused on his youngest son.

"You were my fucking last hope but no, an idiot like your brothers, making idiot moves and even more idiot choices. You're lucky that people seem to like you." He pulled Draco by the hair, getting him so close that surely Draco could feel his alcoholic breath against his nose. "You try again to fuck shit up and I'll make you regret it." Lucius had pulled so hard that a small strand of dark hair remained in his hand when he let Draco go. His son didn't say anything, though. He didn't even flinch. Just nodded.

"Sorry," he just added, a minute later.

Lucius grunted, taking again the fork in his hand. "You better be. The Thompsons are coming at the party and you're going to apologize to that freak of a son."

"Yes, sir."

There was a moment of silence. The three of them resuming eating.

"His son's a fairy. Uh?" Lucius munched, with a piece of steak in his mouth. "Fucking faggots, they're everywhere…"

Considering that no one of the siblings got beaten up that evening that could be listed as a good evening in the Malfoy manor. Even if everybody knew that Draco didn't get punched in the face only because he needed to be at his best for the party.

Before going to bed, Draco let his sister hug him, albeit reluctantly. She watched him go to his room, massaging his scalp and she went into hers, locking it behind her.

Christmas Eve was certainly not a day for family and friends. Not that the Malfoy had any real friends, only clients and people who owned them a favour. The closest friends Draco and Lyra ever had were Draco and Cyprus, their two youngest older brothers and some of the help. Even at school they had to get close to people they did not like.

Talking about people they did not like. The party was full of them. Mean, boring or just incredibly snobbish people in perfect dresses and sparkly jewels. Lyra too was clothed in a dark blue dress with a sapphire pendant around her neck, but she felt so out of place there, especially after two years of absence and the consequent gossips that had circulated in whispers around her. She looked at Draco, who was side by side with Lucius, talking with the Thompsons. She could see that even if he was apologizing, his clenched fists were saying otherwise. Draco had never been good at lying and when he had to it seemed like he was hurting. That was one of the reasons why Draco could not be a good politician. Draco was actually charismatic and smart; people would follow him and always expected him to be the one who had everything under control. He was a leader. But he was no hypocrite; it was not in his nature. When he had to be fake, to say things he didn't mean, Draco would have that look in his eyes that made Lyra wanting to hold him in her arms; like he was dying inside, little by little, piece by piece.

Their father didn't care about his son's happiness. Nor of any other of his progeny. Draco was his favourite and he was also the one Lucius would abuse the most. Lyra's heart would break every time Draco felt small and insignificant, angry at the world and unworthy of love. She tried to give him her affection, yet she had abandoned him for two years. She was at least grateful he had been far away from Lucius's grasp for most of the time, being in college.

Yet Lucius did not need physical distance to convince Draco he could not escape his destiny. Lucius had decided since Draco was only a little boy that he was the one to follow a political career. He had seen how his other sons followed his lead; he had seen that confidence in his eyes. And he then had proceeded to destroy it.

When she was younger, Lyra couldn't understand that. She had thought it was just the way it was. Even when the Malfoy's brutality had ruined her as well. It was only when she had come back after that nightmare that she had seen things for what they truly were: an abusive environment that they couldn't escape from.

"Such a nice dress!" commented a woman a few years older than she was. From the accent, she was from South America. She was already a little tipsy, not caring that her own dress neckline was doing a bad job of keeping her tits covered.

"Huh, yours too," she replied, sipping her champagne.

"Stefanie Lehman," she presented herself. She then pointed behind her. "That one is my good for nothing husband Jimmy. But at least he's cute, no?"

Lyra looked where she was pointing and saw that this Jimmy was talking to Draco and their father. He looked like he was going to faint.

"Lyra. Yeah, cute," Lyra said.

"Not that good in bed, though." She murmured. Then she made eye contact with one of the waiters. Her smile became lustful. "Well I have to go. See you later!"

With that, she disappeared someplace else to try the shrimps on stick that the gorgeous waiter was certainly making her taste.

Lyra wanted at least one of her brothers (not Ara) to keep her company, but they were all doing their duties as Lucius' pawns. She should be doing it too, by making eyes with some rich guy, but she didn't really feel like it. Before it was easier, at least she could get drunk and flirty enough to forget about her situation. Now she could find some solace in texting with Harry, but it was at least an hour he wasn't replying, probably busy having fun with his family.

"God, what a tool," Draco approached her. "That Jimmy guy is like his father-in-law puppet. He made, like, this long speech about smuggling drugs from the border without actually naming the word 'drug'. It made everything longer and boring… Huh. You texting your boyfriend?"

Lyra was not interested in Draco's words until he asked about Harry.

"Yeah, so what?"

Draco shrugged. "Just wanted to know if he took his flight."

"Oh. He fell asleep and had to take one the morning after."

Draco took out his own phone, looking at it and then pocketing it again, with a grimace. "He told you, when?"

"After he arrived home. Why, you want me to say hi from you? Didn't know you two were in such good terms" she joked.

"As if, bitch," he smirked. The smirk was not true, though. Lyra blamed their father's influence for that.

The two started talking, pointing more or less subtly at the guests. Lucius interrupted their almost joyful moment. He approached them accompanied by a tall man with gray hair and blue eyes so bright they seemed white. Yet, with all his stature and glacial eyes, Lucius remained the most menacing figure between the two.

Lucius was smiling, coming closer to pat Draco's back. And to rest his hand there.

"Draco, I want to present you Mr. Karin. He was an ambassador in Russia, but now he's working at the White House."

"Please call me Gene." The man greeted Draco, shaking his hand. "I'm a consultant for the Secretary of State."

Out of the corner of her eye, Lyra saw Lucius's hand pressing harder and harder into Draco's back.

"Please to meet you, Gene," Draco said, trying to put on his best smile.

"If only I knew there were going to be such young and friendly people here, I would've insisted that my daughter spend the Christmas holiday with me instead of her mother back in Russia."

"I'm sure she's having a great time there, anyway. We can be pretty boring sometimes." Draco was really trying to humour their father by appearing the most pleasant as possible. Lyra could barely endure to see Draco forcing himself like that. He was going to get an ulcer before he hit twenty-five years of age.

"With her mother? Never trust a Russian woman, boy. I just hope Lana won't take after her," commented the man. He was definitely in a good mood due to the alcohol and Lucius's cajoling.

Draco laughed the hand against his back clenching on his skin through the layer of clothes as encouragement.

They laughed and joked for a little while, until Mr. Karin went back to the buffet. Lucius released his grip and patted Draco's back, satisfied.

"See? It's not that difficult." He said, before following his important guest.

Draco remained still. Lyra touched him on the forearm.

"Draco…"

Her brother shoved her off, murmuring "Need to piss."

He took off, again checking his phone, annoyed before disappearing in the hallway.

Lyra leaned with a sigh against one of the white column. She needed a refill of champagne. She didn't want to get drunk, but a bit of alcohol was much needed on such occasion. She reached for the only glass left on a trail, when her hand was brushed against another one, probably trying to reach for the same object. Lyra was no coward, but when at home she had to play the rules and being rude to the guests was not among them.

She retreated her hand.

"Lyra?"

A familiar voice recognized her. She felt her guts wrench at that. Lyra wanted to make Harry's breathing exercise, but there was no time. She braced herself and looked up to find Rick, one of the people she had hoped never to see again.

"Hi, Rick," she greeted. Why didn't she take the damn glass? She needed alcohol in her system now.

"It's been so long… Ay Trev, look who's here! Lyra! Remember her?" Rick waved to another guy, tall and lanky.

Trevor looked at Lyra for a few moments before smiling.

"Lyra! God, I almost didn't recognize you. You know, with all your clothes on and a clean nose. And I really thought you were a natural blonde!"

Lyra gritted her teeth. What put her to shame was that she knew that Trevor didn't mean any harm by saying that. It was a simple statement for him.

"Yeah, right? Look how she cleaned up," said Rick. "Just like us."

She knew from their red eyes, the continuous brushing of their nose, Trevor's leg fidgeting, that they didn't really clean up. They had only put on some nice clothes. Lyra wasn't like that. Not anymore. For that, she needed to stay the fuck away from them.

"It was nice to see you again, guys, but Draco's looking for me…" she said as a pretence, making a head gesture.

"C'mon. You don't want to reminisce the past? We could go out in the back and talk a little or whatever." Rick grabbed Lyra by her arm. "Emma is here too, I'm sure she missed you. Unfortunately, Troy couldn't come…"

 _Troy._ At that last name, Lyra felt a shiver down her spine. She didn't even want to remember that fucker.

"Well, bad luck. Listen I really need to go-"

"Hey, lil sis." Draco and Cyprus approached her, one on each side of her. "Is there a problem here?"

Trevor and Rick immediately told them that no, there was no problem at all. They were only talking to their old friend. Lyra, finally free from Rick's grip, slid her arm around Draco's waist.

"No problem here. But you didn't want to talk to me about that thing?" she asked her older brother. Draco frowned at her, trying to remember if he had actually asked Lyra about something before. Lyra rolled her eyes.

"Oh, right. The thing." He nodded. "Sorry guys, I really need to talk to my sister. See you around." Draco put an arm around her shoulders, leaving the two guys. Cyprus followed behind.

Once they were out of their range, Draco took two glasses of white wine from the moving tray and offered one to Lyra. Cyprus saw a man in a green suit and excused himself.

"Sorry, big investor. Maybe."

There remained the two siblings. Draco cleared his throat.

"So, were they bothering you?"

Lyra sighed. "They're part of Troy's circle of friends," she explained. At that, Draco nodded and didn't ask for more details

"You know it's all in the past, though. Right?" Draco had to ascertain if his little sister was fine for real.

Lyra nodded. Truth was it was not _all in the past._ Trevor and Rick and even Troy were in her past. But someone else was still not. Was there, in that house. Always.

"Good." Draco ruffled her hair, without thinking about the situation. "Oh shit, sorry!"

Lyra pressed a hand on top of her head. Yeah, Draco did a good job messing with her fucking hair.

"Thanks, douche bag. Well, I needed to go to the bathroom anyway." She grunted, giving him a little kick in the shin.

On the way to her bathroom, Lyra noticed a human shadow seated on a sofa. The only dim light coming from a cell phone.

"Draco?" she asked, turning on the light.

Draco closed his eyes as soon as the light hit him. "What the fuck, Lyra?!"

"Oops, sorry. I so hope I didn't ruin your pretty eyes," she mocked him.

"I'm so going to make you regret it if you did, skank." Finally, Draco's eyes adjusted to the brightness.

"What were you doing here?" Lyra asked, sitting on the sofa with her brother.

Draco shrugged. "I'm going back. I just…" He rubbed the thumb against his bottom lip.

"It's just that you don't want to play nice with all those people," suggested Lyra.

"It's not like I have a fucking choice."

"Yes, you do," Lyra softly replied.

Draco stood up immediately. "What the fuck do you know, bitch?"

He didn't even wait for Lyra's reply that he was gone, heading towards the party, again.

"Merry Christmas, everyone!" Except in the Malfoy's house.

Draco, Cyprus and Lyra would exchange their gifts late in the evening, when their father would be passed out drunk. For the moment, though, they had to play their parts.

The three brothers would stick around to greet the guests (or 'the beggars', how they used to call them), while Lyra would stay behind her father and Ara, taking the guests' gifts from their hand to collect them on a big pile. The bigger the gift mountain, the more their father would look pleased. A reminder of his power.

People would come on Christmas day to wish him a merry Christmas while hoping they had done nothing the past year to unleash Lucius Malfoy's wrath. They knew he preferred big wrapped boxes to small ones, only to make the mountain bigger; he didn't really care about the contents. What he was looking for was to see the look in their eyes, notice them flinch under his gaze and most importantly the money. He collected a large amount of money on Christmas Day.

Lyra was disgusted by how greedy her father was. He liked the money so much. He didn't even like to spend it, just have it. Yet, she stayed silent and smiled every time she'd take a present in her hands.

After a while, though, she couldn't stand it anymore. It was exhausting. Even just breathing the air in that room was suffocating her. She wanted to go away to have a smoke, to put some distance between herself and Lucius and the tension it that room.

Lyra didn't even excuse herself. She just took off. Before, she wouldn't even have dreamed to leave, just like that. Lucius would've come after her. Now instead, Lucius just glanced at her and didn't say anything except ordering Ara to take her place. Ara looked almost offended, but one glare from their father and he was standing behind him to collect the presents.

Lyra went outside all bundled up in her coat. She lit up a cigarette and walked absentmindedly on the white border of the empty swimming pool, until she noticed Draco lying down on one of the loungers. He seemed rather absorbed in texting something on his phone; then shaking his head while pressing on the screen, probably to delete the text. She immediately decided to bother him a little by sitting on him.

"Merry Christmas, shithead!" she exclaimed, plopping down on his abdomen.

"What the fuck!" Draco shouted, completely taken off guard. His phone falling on the ground. "Shit!"

Lyra tried to snatch it, but her brother was faster and locked it.

"You're no fun," Lyra pouted.

Draco scoffed. "Yeah you too, skank." Then he appeared to remember "Shouldn't you be with Pops?"

"Shouldn't you be kissing some ass?"

He shrugged. "I won't tell if you don't."

"Deal." Lyra remained quiet for a few seconds before asking "You know I've never seen you in such a deep relationship with your phone."

Draco pocketed his phone. "So what?"

"Nothing. I'm just curious to know who the lucky girl is." Draco never really liked to use the phone. He used it mainly to text and never went on social networks. So, if he seemed so enthralled with it now, it could mean just one thing.

"Fuck off," replied Draco flipping her the bird.

"Oh, c'mon Draco, just tell your favourite sister!" she tried to hug him, not quite achieving the desired result because Draco stopped her by her shoulders.

"Like I have another sister."

"Well where do you put Molly, then?" Lyra suggested with a smirk.

"Hey, for your information, our half-sister Molly is our half-brother Malcolm now. After years of therapy, he finally decided that he's a guy, you know, considering he has a dick. So no, you're still my one and only annoying sister," said Draco, relaxing against the lounger again.

"Yeah, yeah, see? You're stuck with me." Lyra pinched him on his arm, making him winch.

"… Just some bitch," Draco said after Lyra trashed her cigarette. He was taking one from his pack.

"What?"

"The one you were asking about earlier." Draco lit the cigarette. "The phone, you know."

Lyra smiled. It was the first time that Draco was actually willing to talk to her about this stuff. She knew her brother had had a decent amount of girls, but he had never been in a relationship that lasted more than a month.

"So, what about her? What's the problem?" she asked, trying to lower down her instinct to squeak.

Draco shrugged. "This girl… we have just been fucking for a week and she got all these stupid ideas. Like, you know, we could get serious or something. I told her how things were and now I guess she's all offended 'n shit. Like I fucking care."

"Well, the fact that you are actually telling me this, denotes that you _are_ giving a fuck about her," Lyra couldn't refrain herself to say.

Draco looked at her as if she was the stupidest thing on the planet. "Whatever. It's not like I'm going to text her or something. Bitch needs to know her fucking place," he said, inhaling his cigarette.

"Yeah. Whatever. And yet you are moping and looking at your phone, all worried and shit." Lyra snatched his cigarette with a swift movement, standing up. "Just call her!"

She decided it was time to go inside. Reaching the door, she dared to glance back and saw Draco looking at his phone again, before swearing and pocketing it again. He followed her inside.

The moment they closed the door behind them, they heard Lucius shouting inside his room. They also heard feeble laments coming from it. It was easy to guess what was going on. Draco went straight for the door, followed by Lyra and Draco. They went inside to assist at the scene they had expected: Lucius beating the shit out of some of his underlings and Ara struggling in his mind between the two choices of stopping his father or becoming a wallflower.

"You thought you could fool me?" Lucius was shouting. "You're dead!"

The poor fucker really looked about three punches from dying and both Draco and Draco decided to intervene taking each one of Lucius's arms.

"C'mon Pops, he's not worth it!" Draco tried to convince their dad.

"You kill him remember all the guests outside!" Draco remembered their father.

The guests. That calmed Lucius down. He spat on the bloody pulp in fetal position on the floor. "You better not be talking!"

The man just nodded, letting Lyra escorting him out of the backdoor.

Merry fucking Christmas indeed.

Draco was in Lyra's bedroom, on Lyra's bed, using Lyra's laptop.

"What happened to yours anyway?" asked his sister, a cigarette in her mouth.

"Broken," replied her brother with a shrug. "Now shut the fuck up, wench. Trying to see the results here."

She positioned herself behind Draco to see her brother's grades. She still couldn't understand how her brother always managed to pass.

He passed all his exams…

No wait.

"WHAT THE FUCK!" exclaimed Draco, closing her laptop and almost throwing it against the wall. Fuming with rage, he climbed off the bed and out of her bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

Lyra opened the laptop, looking at the only subject he didn't pass: 'Potions' Professor S. Snape.


	8. The poor tree

Christmas break had been great. Harry had spent the remainder of his vacation with his family and fucking around with TJ. Really, that guy's riding skill was not limited to horses. Always in true cowboy style, the hat was included (but not the 'YYYYAAHHH!') while riding Harry in the two cowgirl positions. TJ had also introduced Harry to his group of friends and taught him a little bit of line dance (which Harry had then showed Ron, receiving as a compliment "Harry, if you want to do the Thriller dance shit, just do it in your own room, I'm trying to watch TV here."). Harry had had so much fun he had almost forgotten why he had been so upset in the first place.

Coming back to college, Harry had decided that moping was useless and not good for him. What difference would it have made? He would have just made a fool out of himself wagging his tail for that Malfoy fucker again. Draco had stated pretty clearly that he wasn't interested in anything but his dick and even that only when he felt like it. Draco had never sent him a text to apologize for his words or even to wish him a merry fucking Christmas. After talking with Hermione and Vee, Harry had come to the conclusion that he would've been pretty miserable to be the one to text first. Especially if no reply was going to come back.

 _So yeah, fuck him, what's-his-name_. Harry was going to forget him and his bubble butt and his mesmerizing blue eyes. He would find someone who was interested in him as well, someone to love and to be loved by. Etc, etc. He would be happy and in a stable relationship with a hot guy and a few months from now he would say "Draco who?"

Fact is that since the beginning of classes, Harry had screwed two guys and for the life of him, he couldn't remember their names. Just two nameless hook-ups. He certainly was not happy with it. He actually felt vaguely disgusted. He didn't want to be that person again. The one that fucks and fucks and fucks who does reckless things and wakes up in foreign places. Now that he was on treatment, he looked at his undiagnosed self with a mixture of discomfort and longing, and that was what scared him shitless. The awareness that there were not only danger and embarrassment, but also pleasure and thrilling excitement. He could have it all: pain and sadness and euphoria and energy. There was such a thin line separating him from it: his meds and his routine, which sometimes made him feel like a robot. It would be so easy to feel those extreme emotions again.

But Harry didn't want that. Since he was a kid he would always seek order, need to feel in control. Maybe it was due to having a chaotic, messy family or his brain had wanted to screw with him since the beginning. However, now he wanted to keep himself in power, try to win over his fucked up brain by chaining it with meds and planned actions. Harry could not go abroad to help people by being in the army, but fuck him if he wouldn't at least try to save himself. He didn't want to be like a flag that changed direction on a whim of the wind. He wanted to plant his feet on the ground and not be swayed away anymore.

The army life had taught him how to plan and stick to a routine. Routine can save your life in case of panic; routine can be engraved into your mind to the point where you don't even have to think about it. At first, Harry had included Severus in his routine. It had been a good arrangement, but it hadn't made him happy. Then Draco had appeared and Harry had thought he could have been happy with that guy, but before that could happen he had to bring him into his routine. But he had rushed things, pushed hard and too soon, obtaining the opposite effect instead. But those nameless guys? Who the fuck were they? Harry had to find himself someone to be attracted to or go celibate for a long, long time.

Harry loved Lyra. If only she were a guy…

 _She would've been Draco. Dammit!_

During the break, her calls had been his only salvation after hearing Seamus' complaints about not getting laid. Harry hadn't really wanted to listen to his daily reports about his missed fucks. Still, they were pretty funny to tell Lyra as a joke. It had certainly looked like Lyra needed some fun stories while at the Malfoy's manor. She would always maintain a light tone of voice, trying to sound like her usual self. Harry knew better and helped her sustain a cheerful conversation every time. They would never speak about Draco or any other relatives of hers, only useless, funny stuff.

Now that she was back, however, Lyra was smiling and throwing herself into Harry's arms. "Missed you, fuckhead!" she exclaimed, peppering his face with light kisses.

"Missed you too, girlfriend."

She giggled and shoved him a little to untangle herself from the tight embrace.

They went to their usual place to get a strong coffee. Neither of them had class for an hour and they decided to take their damn time.

"So, boyfriend," asked Lyra, inhaling the warm scent of her macchiato. "You tapped some ass, I heard."

Harry almost choked on his still too hot coffee gaining a burn on his tongue. Had Draco told her about them? Whatever 'them' was?

"Huh?" decided to play it.

"The cowboy, TC? JD? AJ?" offered Lyra.

"Mhm. TJ, yes." Harry needed some serious ice on his burned tongue. "What about him?"

"What about- You told me about him but not in that much detail. C'mon you slut, I want to know more. Tell me something juicy."

"Well, I learned some line dance moves."

"That's not juicy at all."

"Yeah, my roommate thinks the same thing. You two just can't understand the beauty of line dance, really." Harry scoffed.

"Ok, was he good?"

"Pretty good. He knows how to move on a dance floor."

"I hope you are using a metaphor to describe wild sex. I'm not accepting any other interpretation."

Harry laughed. "Yeah, that too."

"Are you, like, seeing each other now?"

"What? Nah. But I had a good time. Maybe when I go back home, we could hook up again, but…" He shrugged.

"He's not the one?" suggested Lyra. She almost looked serious. Sometimes Harry couldn't understand if Lyra loved to joke about committed relationships or she was really a romantic at heart. He was inclined to think the latter. Lyra looked as if she was starving for love. Harry could relate to that. Maybe that's why he felt such empathy with her.

"You're such a sap!" Harry exclaimed, though. "But I guess. Yeah. He just didn't click with me, you know. A part from that he's a great guy."

"Of fucking course he is. I know this is so commonplace, but the few great guys left in this world are either married or gay." She replied with a heavy sigh.

"Don't ever believe that. I can tell you experience that the combo married plus gay certainly doesn't mean great guy." Harry joked, gaining a laugh from Lyra.

Then she decided it was time to get a little more serious. "I'm worried about Draco."

Harry was glad he wasn't sipping his coffee when she blurted that out, or he would've choked for sure, on top of his still aching tongue. "What…. What about him?" He didn't want to hear anything about Draco!

However, the look in her eyes made him feel like a little shit for being so selfish. She did seem pretty worried. "It's just… Father is destroying him. I mean, he has always had his way with all my brothers, me… but Draco. He wants to transform him in something he's not. And that asswipe is letting him. Like it's the right –well, the only- thing to do." She took Harry's hand. "I'd like him to be free enough to make his own choices, but I guess its impossible now." 

Harry didn't want to feel bad for Draco. Draco was someone he had a crush on for what, a week? But he could feel bad for Lyra and her worry. He put his arm around her bony shoulders, pressing their temples together. "Your brother's tough. You don't need to worry. Everything will be fine."

Then, to liven the situation, he smiled. "Wouldn't you like to hear the details of Carl's engagement?"

Lyra looked at him a little confused, but then smiled as well. "Sure. Your little brother's a weirdo." 

***

On Saturday night, Harry was headed to a party hosted by a fraternity other than Draco's. A member of Harry's rowing club, Mark, had invited him, and the other guys, there with the promise of booze, coke, and girls. All of these things were not appealing (never had been or now were dangerous to Harry, but he had decided to accept anyway because he wanted to know his teammates better in a relaxed environment.

So there he was, receiving a bear hug from Mark and being dragged inside to receive his first cup of beer. _His first and only_ , Harry thought bitterly.

Harry didn't know that many people were in there. He recognized some faces and remembered the name of some of the rowing team members but he had never really spoken to them except for "Hey, can you help me with the machinery?" and the likes. He decided to go talk with a group of them. He eased without any effort into the conversation; he was sort of a social chameleon and liked to be appreciated by the others. Still, his friends could be counted on his fingers and his close friends were even less.

After a while, though, the distance he had started to feel at parties between the other people and him, increased consistently. They were all high or drunk and Harry was feeling like a looser that had to stay sober to drive. It was ironic that he had to take pills not to get high. It sucked so much.

He decided to raid the fridge for something to drink that had no alcohol in it. No such luck. He had to be satisfied with tap water. He was drinking it when he heard a voice directed to him

"Hi."

Harry looked up to see a guy still sober who was smiling at him. And checking him out. Harry licked his bottom lip, doing the same. The guy was not bad. A little shorter than him, caramel skin and brown hair. He looked pretty ripped. "Hi to you too."

"How's it going?" the guy asked. "I'm Evan."

Harry took his hand to shake it. "Harry. And it's going fine. A little boring perhaps."

Evan nodded with understanding. "Same here. I can't drink much because it fucks up all my efforts for this." He took his shirt up to reveal his sculpted six pack. "You too?"

Harry snorted. "Yeah, something like that."

They rested in silence for a few seconds, before Evan talked again.

"So, you're a friend of Stan's?"

"Who?" asked Harry, confused. Did he mistake him for someone else?

"Stan. Huh." Evan scratched at his neck. He seemed embarrassed. "You know him. Uhm. You met him last Saturday? At Clary's? Tall like me, green eyes, and blonde?"

 _Oh_. Harry just discovered the name of one of his nameless asses.

"Right. Stan." Harry nodded. "Sorry. Got confused."

The guys smirked. "You totally forgot his name, didn't you?"

"Yeah…" and they both laughed.

"Stan certainly remembered you, though. He had little stars in his eyes when he told me about you." Evan's eyes glanced down to linger about Harry's crotch to suggest without any words about what Stan had been so excited to tell about. Harry tucked his hands in his jeans front pockets, leaning a little ahead with his waist.

"Guess he never tried a brunet before?"

"Right. A brunet." Evan bit his bottom lip. Eyes still fixed on the same spot. "Never tried one either."

Harry put his empty cup down. "Here's a little too noisy. Can't even hear you. Want to go outside?"

Playing alone, the other man happily agreed.

***

There was a full moon out, with such bright stars scattered in the immense deep blue sky. Standing out against such scenery, a tree. It looked majestic and ancient as if it had been there since the beginning of time. There were no leaves on its branches, the snow covering them like a protective blanket. The call of a solitary owl resonated in the air, so sweet and meaningful it would've made a poet clench at his sensible heart and start composing the most delicate verses.

Yet, if a poet had been there at that exact time, he would've had composed a completely different sort of poetry.

"OH YES! HARRY! Fuck me harder! OH GOD so good! Pound into me like the filthy bitch I am!" Evan howled. He was practically hugging the tree like member of Greenpeace, but with his legs spread to the maximum. Harry liked them responsive but this dude was too fucking loud! "MH! YES! YES! FUCK so BIG! You're destroying me!"

Harry didn't know if he was supposed to be more turned on, but all he could feel was pain in the eardrums and a strong instinct to roll his eyes.

"Keep it quiet, will you?" suggested Harry, continuing with his pounding anyway. At least the guy had a decent ass.

"Uh, uh, sorry…AAAAHHH!" Evan's neck almost broke in two when he leaned back due to his impending orgasm.

"Hey, what's going on under there?"

A voice came approaching the two having (loud as fuck) sex. Harry pulled out immediately, hastily removing the condom. He tossed it on the snow and put on his jeans. Evan followed the example.

"Fuck, fuck!" Evan cried, still not able to tone his volume down. "What if it's a security guard?"

"I knew you were too loud!" Harry with his coat still unzipped, when the voice, now closer, started to sound familiar.

"Lookie what we got here!" Draco exclaimed, finally in sight view.

"Draco?" Harry asked; try to discern the guy's face. His expression was unreadable to Harry in the darkness, but it was certainly obvious to Evan, who blanched.

"Draco. It's not what it seems…" Evan was walking backwards, but Draco was following him with his trademark swagger.

"Not what it seems?" Draco arched his eyebrows, looking unconvinced. "Because it totally looks like you were having some sort of queer-bo sex under the tree. Thought last beating was enough."

Before Evan could manage to run for his life, Draco kicked him in the groin. Evan flopped on the snow like a dead weight. The shorter guy kicked him right against his stomach. Clenching in a fetal position, Evan muttered

"Why are you still beating me up? He was doing it too!" He pointed at Harry. Draco was having none of that. He kicked him again.

"Yeah, but you're the one taking it in the ass, right? You're the one I got to kick straight." Another kick settled on Evan's ribs.

Harry had to take his eyes off the scene. Not because his gentle nature was shocked by all that violence, rather he had to keep himself from laughing at Draco's words. He turned his head again to watch Draco crouching beside Evan.

"It working?" asked Draco. Pulling that beaten up body by its shirt.

Evan nodded. "Yes!"

"Good. Now get the hell outta here!" Evan was just getting up when Draco kicked him in the ass, watching the scared to death guy run towards the house.

Only the two of them remained and Draco looked Harry up and down, pushing his tongue around the corner of his mouth. It was a clear invitation, but Harry was having none of that. He still remembered those harsh words.

"Why are you here?" he asked instead.

Draco settled for biting his bottom lip, then pinching his nose. "Came to collect some poker winnings."

Harry scoffed. "Didn't know your family was so poor for you to become a debt collector for, what? 200 dollars? 300?"

"Make it five and add a zero," replied Draco, shrugging.

"5000 dollars? Are you kidding me?"

"Nope. I even gave Sanchez a discount. That prick plays big money, but he doesn't really have any. I'm sure he won't be able to pay even now. His father is important, but he's not rich. It'll be good to have him indebted to me. Still, I'm going to make him shit himself first." He smirked, like that made him so cool.

"Well, good for you." Harry deadpanned.

"Yeah…" There was a moment of silence, before Draco stepped closer to Harry. He looked at him with a small, nasty smirk. He brushed a finger against Harry's bulge. "So guess you still haven't…?"

Harry was still rock hard. He was actually ashamed that he had felt more aroused after hearing Draco's voice than when he was in Evan's ass. Now, with Draco so damn closed to him… "No, thanks to you." He managed to say.

"Want to come thanks to me, then?" Draco proposed. In his eyes there was not even a small hint of shame or apology. He was looking at Harry straight in the eyes, his full of lust.

Harry held his eyes for a few moments, before giving in. He turned a so-fucking-full-of-himself Draco against the trunk. Harry telepathically sent a "sorry" to the poor ancient tree. Its duty was still not over.

***

What the fuck was wrong with him? Harry was doing so damn well trying to get over Draco. Instead of being over, however, he had found himself pounding him from behind.

They were seated on a bench, their asses so cold Harry was sure they were getting frostbite. Yet he couldn't find in him the will to move away from the dark-haired boy. He wanted to say something, broke that post-coital silence, but Draco beat him to it.

"That was good." He lighted up a cigarette, inhaling it with satisfaction. "Missed ya."

Harry was surprised by those words. Was Draco going to apologize or something? "You did?"

Draco passed him the cigarette. "Yeah man, I couldn't fuck back home."

 _Right_. Draco was not going to apologize at all. What was he expecting? The weird thing was that Harry could've sworn to have _felt_ the apology through the sex they had had. Draco had seemed more into it, less bossy but more needy. He had even shivered when Harry had softly touched the nape of his neck. But then, that could've been due to the glacial temperature. So yeah, who knew?

"'Cause of your father?" Harry ventured to ask, breathing out smoke.

Draco snatched back the cigarette. "What are you getting at?"

"Well, I guess your father is not the brightest example of a tolerant person."

Draco rested silent for a few seconds, like he was pondering whether to punch Harry or talk to him. Then he tossed the cigarette, pulling Harry by the coat. "You don't know shit about my father." He was now looking at Harry straight in the eyes. Harry couldn't understand what the meaning behind them was.

"But-"

Draco didn't let him talk, pushing him into the snow and falling on top of him. "Enough chitchat. Ready to go again or do you need some time, Pots?"

Harry wanted to continue talking, to unravel some of Draco's many layers. Even saying that he was sorry for breaking his laptop. In the hope that an apology would lead to another one. From Draco.

But he was also ready to go again, so "Sure. But can we at least go someplace warm? I'm freezing my ass off out here."

Draco laughed and stood up, pulling Harry up with him.


	9. Detectives or not

They were resting in silence, both slumped on the floor. Only their still unzipped pants on. They stole some glances at one another while breathing to regain a normal heart beating. After a while, Draco offered a cigarette to Harry. They passed it back and forth, not breaking the moment with words.

They were back in the closet (literally and partially even figuratively), almost like their encounter before winter break had never happened. Almost, because Draco had started to do something different. Instead of ordering Harry to fuck off, or dressing in a matter of seconds to fuck off himself, Draco would linger a little bit longer. Usually he'd share a cigarette with Harry. Harry wouldn't bet on it, but he suspected that that was how Draco was trying to correct his words from December. It appeared Draco was better at acts or actions than words, at least for expressing nice shit.

Surprisingly, Draco was the first to break the silence. Not surprisingly, he didn't have anything pretty to say. "That fucking overgrown bat flunked me! How's that even possible? I had the fucking answers on my laptop!" He blurted out, kicking a mop, which inevitably fell down with a thud.

Harry turned his head, surprised. "What?"

"Yeah, can you believe it? The asshole is going to pay. Thing is, they say he took a sick leave. What the fuck I can't even kick his brown ass like this!" He was still kicking at the fallen mop, which was now on the verge of breaking for good, the poor bastard. Harry imagined Draco was using the mop as a voodoo doll for Severus.

"You know," Harry hoped not to regret this later, but he had to say it. "I saw your paper in Sev…Napes's office. You passed. And you kind of aced it."

"What?!" He had Draco's full attention now. "He fucking cheated?"

Harry decided to gloss over the last statement. A cheater being angry with another cheater was just ridiculous.

"Yeah… I don't know why he did it, though." Had Severus tried to make a brave gesture once in his life? And he had had to pick Draco of all people to fuck with.

"That pussy fucking grew some balls in the end, uh?" Apparently, Draco thought the same thing as Harry. Now they should think of a way to make Severus reconsider his grade. "Gonna cut them off," said Draco. _No. Not that way._

"What? No!" Harry sighed. "Listen. First thing first. We need to retrieve your original paper…" 

"How the hell do you have a key even for his office?" Harry asked, as Draco pushed the door of Professor Snape's office open.

"People owe me favours." Draco shrugged. It didn't seem like a big deal to him, but Harry wondered how many people on campus were under Draco's thumb.

They entered the small room. The office, as always, lay in a state of utter disarray. Draco was playing with his finger against his bottom Justin, looking at all the papers scattered everywhere.

"Hope it's here, because I'm not gonna go through this mess for nothing," Draco commented.

Harry huffed. "Well what about me, then. I'm not the one who got flunked, am I?"

"Yeah well, it was your fucking suggestion, wasn't it?"

"Cause yours was much better? Tsk." Harry looked at Draco to dare him to say that yes, it was. Draco murmured something incomprehensible, but he didn't reply, except for a grumpy "Let's get this shit done."

Harry let a grin escape his lips. He would never say it out loud, but he found Draco endearing. Well, sometimes. The two began sorting all those papers to look for one. It was really like finding the needle in the hay.

While they were looking for it, Harry glanced at Draco a few times. Once he caught Draco staring right back at him. He smiled a little to himself, causing the blonde haired boy to snap, defensively: "The fuck are you smiling for?"

"Nothing." Harry tried to conceal the curling of his lips. "Get back to work."

After what it seemed like an eternity, Harry beamed, waving a piece of paper towards Draco. "Here it is!"

Draco snatched the paper from his hand, looking at it with great attention. "Yep. That's mine."

Harry had to compose himself rather quickly. It felt quite stupid to be feeling so proud for having found a paper. But he kind of was. What the fuck was wrong with him?

"Now we can go beat the shit out of him," continued Draco. "He can't hold anything against me now." 

"Except maybe have you arrested for assault and battery?" Harry shook his head. He couldn't believe Draco was still hung upon that. Still, he couldn't ignore the fact that Draco had used the pronoun 'we' in the sentence. How lame was that? "How the fuck you're majoring in the art of politics?"  
Draco looked down, worrying his bottom Justin with his teeth. This time Harry didn't feel any sexual vibe off it. Draco seemed rather bitter. He sniffled, shrugging. "You'd be surprised how many times politicians prefer to start a war rather than fucking talking," he said. Harry was almost sure Draco wanted to say something else instead. Then he collected himself. "So, what hippie move you propose, Potter?"

"Go to his house and talk him into correcting your grade."

Draco snorted. "That's it? Talking?"

"That's the best solution without getting you expelled," said Harry matter-of-factly.

"I'd never get expelled…" murmured Draco. But he nodded. "Let's try your solution then, Gandhi. Guess I'll have to get his home address."

"I know it," blurted Harry without thinking. In the spirit of helping Draco, he had forgotten to be cautious about his real relation to Severus. _Fuck_. He could only hope the other boy wasn't paying enough attention to him to wonder about the reason why he knew it.

"How the fuck do you know?" asked Draco immediately.

 _You're an unlucky bastard, Harry Potter._

"I… Uhm… Needed to ask him something?" Why the hell did that sound like a question? "Yeah, needed to ask him about some stuff. I liked the subject, you know, so…" _So fucking what?_

There was a moment of silence.

"His courses are boring, he is boring. How would you like that?" Draco asked. The question sounded light, without any meaning behind it, but the way the other boy was looking at Harry, like he was trying to decipher some kind of code, made Harry think that maybe Draco was not enquiring about what Harry thought of Severus as a professor.

"Don't like it anymore," Harry settled to reply.

That seemed to appease Draco, who nodded, awkwardly.

"We got the paper, let's go," said Harry, walking towards the door. He was stopped by Draco's words, though.

"Why the hurry? We're alone here. There's enough light and I really do wanna wipe my ass on the bats desk. So, what d'ya say?" Harry turned around rather quickly. Draco was seated with open legs on top of the papers scattered on Severus's desk. The blond haired guy pushed his fucking tongue against the corner of his mouth, inviting. Why did he have to be so hot?

Harry grinned, closing the distance between him and Draco. "I'd say that it's quite a great fucking idea."

The both of them hastily unbuckled their belts.

It appeared Harry would finally have a truly satisfying fuck in Professor Snape's office.

Severus's place wasn't far enough from campus to make Draco bother to take his precious car. They decided to walk down there. On the way there was an unspoken competition of who would lead the way by walking faster. Naturally, Draco was the constant loser, but that didn't seem to bother him that much and Harry would take advantage of surpassing him by touching his shoulder with his own; just little, innocent bumps.

In the middle of a row of terraced houses, there was the Snape's'. It was painted in a warm pastel colour, giving it a nice, lovely aura. But Harry remembered the interior, full of religious posters, suffocating kitchen smells and proof of Severus's married life, like toys and photographs. He remembered when Severus had wanted to share the queen-sized bed with him and Harry had gotten sick to his stomach at the thought of sitting on the wife's side. Reflecting about it now, he would've probably broken up with Severus anyway, even without Draco, just a little bit later.

 _Draco…_

"I swear that if you punch him the moment he opens the door I'm going to leave," said Harry.

Draco smirked "Nah. Gonna be civil if the fucker is too." He then proceeded to ring at the front door.

Neither of them had thought what to say in case Linda Snape was the one to open the door. Luckily, it was Severus. The professor looked at them as if there were two angry ghosts in front of him. Nope. Just Draco and Harry.

"What are you doing here?" he asked. His expression a mixture of surprise and utter horror.

"Wanted to see how you were doing, batman." Draco was the first to reply. He wasn't even trying to conceal his sarcasm, why should he. "But you don't look that sick to me."

Harry was staring at Severus, who had his eyes on Draco, terrified. The professor was still the same, the same Severus that Harry frequented. Now he just disgusted Harry, though. He was still partially covered behind the door. Harry could hear some faint murmurs coming from the house, voices; he guessed that was his family in there. Severus was torn between coming outside so to close the door behind him without the risk of his family listening and the illusion of security of staying inside the house, as if that door could save him from Draco's wrath like a shield. From the look of it, it appeared Severus chose the latter. He looked once behind him, to verify that his family was still doing whatever they were doing.  
"What do you want Malfoy?" he whispered.

"What do I want?" Draco didn't bother to tone his voice to Severus's. "What, you fucking suffer from memory loss? You fucking flunked me!"

"You didn't pass…" muttered Severus, the guilt in his eyes.

"C'mon bat; at least be man enough to admit it. Pots here told me I did pretty well." Severus's head immediately turned to Harry. The redhead rolled his eyes. Now Severus was looking at him as if he had betrayed him or something. Which, technically, even though it was true, but not the point in question.

"You did?" whined Severus.

Harry shrugged. He didn't want to hurt Severus, but after what he had done to Draco, Severus had actually to thank Harry for not letting the short tempered guy beat the shit out of him. Harry was pretty sure that the flunking thing was more a matter of principle than about really caring about the test result, but Severus still did him wrong and Harry was biased. _So what._

"Not only," Harry replied, showing Severus the original paper.

Severus's eyes widened at the sight of it. "How did you get that!" It wasn't even a question. He had to struggle to shout in a low voice.

"Doesn't matter," replied Draco for Harry. "We got it. You got shit. You're a pussy who took my money and one day decided to grow a pair. Well, guess what? Now you're going back to be the pussy that you are."

"But… But I can't just change your grade…" whispered Severus.

"Yes you can. You'll say it was a mistake. Everybody already thinks you're a good for nothing, so it's not gonna shock anyone." Draco shrugged. "If it comes out to the students, you'll be laugh at, nothing out of the ordinary."

Severus was leaning in, as if having his head outside the house would make his family not notice he was still at the door. Draco used that to grab his shirt and get him close to his face. "You refuse, I'm gonna show the paper to the faculty, let's see what happens."

The professor was probably feeling like a horse with the neck trapped by a lasso. "But-"

"No buts, batman. You don't do it, I'll fucking ruin you. Got it?"

Severus hastily nodded. Anything to be freed from Draco's grip. He also looked at Harry, almost to implore him to save his skin. Harry didn't even move, but Draco noticed the direction his eyes had taken.

"No. You don't even dare to look at him, you old fairy."  
Both Harry and Severus stared at Draco simultaneously. Did Draco know about them? Now that Harry was thinking about it, Severus did seem shocked to see them at his front door, but not surprised to find Harry together with Draco. If Severus and Draco knew he tapped the both of them… Harry wanted to find a shovel and bury himself in it.

Draco seemed to see something in the professor's eyes. "Oh, that's rich. You did it because of jealousy? Lame." He forced his grip stronger. "So, we got a deal?"

Severus nodded again and Draco released him. It was in that exact moment that a voice came behind the man "Severus? Who are they?" The woman was on the stairs, staring at them.

The professor looked at Draco and Harry in fear, his eyes imploring them not to say anything.

Of course, Draco Malfoy didn't give a rat's ass about his family situation. "Hey, Mrs. Snape! Your devoted faggot of a husband spreads his legs for his young students. I'd consider a divorce!"

Without Draco's grip to keep him steady, Severus almost crashed on the floor. He looked at his wife to tell her something, probably say something along the line of "honey it's not what you think", but Mrs. Snape cut off his poor excuses.

"I KNEW IT!" she cried. She stomped down the stairs and looked at the young men for a few seconds, before closing the door shut. Outside the house, Draco and Harry could still hear the woman's shouts.

They looked at each other and started to laugh.

"Really, man? Snape?" asked Draco, pointing his thumb at the door. There was no anger in his voice; he seemed genuinely amused by his past fling with the professor.

Harry shrugged. "Guess I got bad taste in men." He glanced at Draco and grinned.

Draco smirked, his tongue playing with the seam of his mouth. He shoved a hand against Harry's shoulder. "Dick."

"Hey, you are what you eat, right?"

They resumed their laughing, shoving at each other along the way back to the campus.

They had had fun dealing with Severus and now they were hyped up on adrenaline. They didn't stop laughing; their shoving was accompanied by the lingering of hands and sideways glances. Sometimes they would stop laughing and glance at each other, as if they were in some need of saying something, breathing heavier. Then they would bump shoulders and laugh again.

Harry didn't want to think too much of it. He didn't want to let himself believe that there was something going on between them. Yet he couldn't deny that there was a sort of complicity between them. They did it together, the blackmailing thing. Well, it wasn't even that much of a blackmailing, Severus had it coming. But it was enough for them to feel energized.

And… horny?

Harry wanted to do more than playfully shove Draco by the shoulder. He longed to push him against a wall, kiss him hard on the mouth and fuck him senseless. A part from the kissing, Draco looked like he desired the same thing. If those heated glares meant something, at least. Neither of them had any plans of doing it in an alley, though. Not when it was this cold. They'd already experienced fucking in the snow and they got frostbites. So yeah, no more, thanks.

But the distance from the campus seemed so long now…

"Wanna grab a butterbeer?" asked Draco, nodding towards a seedy pub. He was brushing his thumb against his lower lip. Almost as if he wasn't sure about his proposition.

Harry shrugged. "Yeah why not. It's cold as fuck out here."

The pub reminded Harry a lot of the Alibi, Kevin's pub. A heaven for drunkards who'd spend their entire evening and money (if they had any) on alcohol and slurred words. It felt a bit like home, the one his family had left six years ago. With the appreciated lack of James.

They sat together in a booth after Draco had bought them two beers.

"This place is a shithole, but their beer is good," said Draco, sipping at his glass.

"It's run-down but at least is warm," commented Harry. "A family friend owns a similar place. He would offer me and my brother beer even if we were underage."

"Yeah uh? Where's your family from?" asked Draco. In truth, it didn't seem like he was paying any real attention to the conversation. His eyes seemed fixed on some part of Harry's body.

"Originally from Chicago, Southside. Now they live in Texas."

"I'm from Chicago," replied Draco half-heartedly.

"I know, Lyra told me."

"Right…" Draco's eyes darted to the bathroom door. "Gotta take a leak," he announced. But the look he gave Harry told him Draco had other intentions than to piss.

Harry waited not even two minutes, before he dashed to the bathroom too.

Draco was fast to open the door, with a smirk "Need something?" he asked, the piece of shit.

"You really want me to go all porn like 'I need to fuck you'?" Harry smiled.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Yeah, whatever, just come inside." And, with a swift movement, he dragged Harry inside and locked the door, also preventing Harry from saying "That's what she said."

That had been the first time they had laughed while banging. Maybe it was due to their newfound complicity, maybe because that bathroom was really fucking small and it was easy to bump into the toilet or the sink. But they laughed. Like when they discovered there was not enough space for Draco to bend over and Harry had to put one foot on the toilet cover to get the angle right; or when Draco bumped his head against the mirror after a good thrust, causing a small scratch to bleed like a motherfucker; also when they opened the toilet cover to dispose of the condom and they were disgusted by what they had found in there.

They stomped out of the pub still laughing, Draco even touched Harry's hair to mess with it and Harry had to stop himself from kissing him right there and then. When they arrived at the campus, however, they parted ways with only a nod.

Harry's disappointment was suppressed when Draco called his last name to show him the finger. Harry laughed again and waved him off before walking towards home.


	10. Awkward Party

"So yeah, we had fun and… I don't know. I feel we got closer? A little bit?" Harry sighed. "I dunno, I think he has changed his behaviour towards me? I mean, I guess you should see it for yourself because I'm biased, but… it's nice, you know. Now we're more like fuck-buddy buddy? Like friends with benefits. But then, we were never friends to begin with, so… what do you think?"

The woman seated in front of Harry, smiled at him. "It doesn't matter what I think of him. It's what you think."

The woman had nice curly brown hair, olive skin, and a perfect smile. Harry was happy that his psychiatrist recommended her to him. He had had an obnoxious psychotherapist back in Texas, whereas Lydia was warm and caring. At least that was what she looked like in her cream-colored studio. They would meet once a week for an hour and Harry would do most of the talking. Sometimes it was easier to manage the monologue, others it was difficult and annoying and he felt like every word had to be extrapolated with force from his mouth. This time, however, Harry had felt enthusiastic enough to start the conversation without even being fully seated.

The reason: Draco Malfoy.

He knew that Lydia's job was not to be his BFF to confide his problems of the heart to, but what if his real BFF was actually his crush's little sister? Or that his brother Justin was always busy building C3-PO? Even fucking Ron, is roomie with whom he had so bonded, refused to go deep in that conversation, starting to appear less and less in the living room after the nth time Harry had brought up the Draco topic. Sure as hell he wasn't going to ask Seamus about it, his advice was the worst.

So yeah, that kind of left only Lydia as a person he could trust. And he was paying her to listen. Apparently, though, even Lydia didn't want to give him what he needed.

"I don't know! That's the whole point!" cried Harry.

Her smile didn't falter. "Listen, Harry. From the looks of it, this appears to be a problem of the heart and you don't really want my advice on that. In my experience –as a friend, not therapist- I've observed that when it comes to crushes, lovers and the like, nobody really listens to friendly advice, no matter how wise it is." Lydia composed herself. "As a therapist, however, what I need to make sure is that this won't become a trigger for you."

"Yeah, exactly. Is it?" asked Harry, anxious.

"Harry, you have to tell me that. But if the only episode you had related to this guy is when you got really upset after his words a month ago, then no, I don't think he's dangerous for you in that sense. I was more worried when you told me of your flings. Still, I'd appreciate if you continue to mention your thoughts on Draco in your log. I need to monitor that."

"Sure… but what if something bad happens? Or too good?" 

"Harry, remember you can always call me, any time, when you believe it could be related to your disorder. Doctor Harris, too. If you instead only want to cry because he's a bastard or you want to gloat because he's not, then you should call your best friend. A part from that. I can understand your fear. This is the first time you're feeling something more for another guy since your diagnosis and you told me that you were scared of the possibility." She leaned closer to Harry. "Having a mental illness and being treated for it doesn't mean you will never be happy again. You don't need to stop pursuing love. You only need to be more careful about it."

"And make sure I have a regular sleep cycle and healthy meals and physical exercise, no alcohol…" Harry started.

"You've just described what every person should do. Difference is you need it more." She smirked, because she didn't like to maintain a too serious tone. "And I'm sure your guy has to be quite happy with the body you get with this routine."

Harry huffed a laugh. That's why he liked Lydia. 

"Aint'ya a lil sexy thing!" exclaimed Lyra, looking appreciatively at Harry.

The guy rolled his eyes, finishing the buttons on his olive green shirt.

"No, like really. You fucking own green clothes."

"Oh my god, you're serious?" Harry made a shocked face. "Cause nobody ever said that I looks good in green before. I believe some people think that being part Irish, we all dress in green and have a shamrock tattooed somewhere."

"And do you?"

"Do what?"

"Have a shamrock on your skin. Can I see it?" Lyra grinned and started to jokingly unbuckle his pants.

"Lyra what the fuck!" cried Harry, shoving her off while she laughed.

He shook his head, buckling up again. "You know, I'm still mad at you since you refused to accompany me." He pouted.

"Yeah I know. I'm so very sorry. Next time I'll be there with you. Pinkie promise." Lyra proceeded to snatch Harry's pinkie to seal the promise. "This is the first time I'm actually using the pinkie, you know? In the past, with my brothers it was all spit handshakes. Ew."

Harry smiled at the image of a little Draco Malfoy, trying to appear tough and super manly with his older brothers. This while Lyra was mimicking the act of puking.

Harry finished with his dressing up, opening his arms to show his girlfriend.

"Is it okay, then?"

She looked at him critically. Then started to ruffle his hair to her liking, nodding only when she was satisfied with his look.

"Yeah. You look so good in that suit that I would kneel right here and blow you." She snorted. "But it's kind of a letdown that you like do to it too."

"True." Harry scoffed.

"Hey can't you bring some of your other friends with you?" she asked, changing topics.

"Don't have that many friends and none of them are suited for it except you." Commented Harry, looking once again at his mirror. Such a fucking peacock.

"Aww now I feel bad for leaving you in the middle of these muscular men with such unattractive big broad shoulders."

"You should. For you." He joked.

Lyra shook her head. She had other plans. "Nah, I'll pass for tonight. Going to go to a sleepover myself. Really, I didn't know that trying to make friends with nice girls was so hard." She huffed, feigning an incredible tiredness for her efforts. Even so, Harry knew that she was really trying hard to be accepted by the other girls. Apparently it was a new experience for her. He hugged Lyra lightly, giving her a kiss on the temple.

"I want details tomorrow. Need to know if you did the pillow fight thing." Harry was almost serious. He truly couldn't understand what girls do on a sleepover.

She nodded "If you'll give me details about your club soiree. Like, I don't know if you manage to bang someone."

At the moment, Harry didn't have any interest on banging someone other than her brother and that would've been quite awkward to tell her about. So he just agreed by kissing her on the temple another time. 

Harry had never experienced social anxiety. He had never felt shy attending uppity parties full of snobbish people. When the money had flooded in the Potter household and they had started getting invited to social events, Harry had always behaved like he owned the place. When he had started to frequent older, more experienced men, he'd learned how to fake interest even for the most tedious arguments. After bipolar had kicked in, his confidence had boosted up to the stars. Even after starting to be treated, he had never felt like a lesser human being surrounded by rich people.

This occasion was different, though. The event at the club was the closest he had ever got to nobility. The rowing club had been founded a little less than 150 years ago. Many of its members came from old money families. Now, Harry was too a member, but he did not have any background. Not only was he a nouveau riche, his family's wealth derived from a very lucky ticket.

In short, Harry wasn't feeling very confident at the moment. He gave a quick assessment of his clothes, before opening the door. He had bought a suit the day before just for the occasion. He was elegant as fuck and he hoped he would've been able to blend in as he always did. He so wanted to make a good impression. Some of the guys in there were part of the team Harry wished to stay on for all the four years. He couldn't afford to screw it up.

As soon as he was inside, all his fears disappeared. Mark was close to the door and he enveloped Harry in his characteristic bear hug.

"Just in time, Harry! You'll still get to see the old men before they get wasted." Mark ushered Harry to the hall. The house had the features of a cabin, what with the wooden walls and the stone fireplaces, but it radiated wealth from its golden candelabras to the luxurious sofas. There were many pictures attached to the walls, some of them in black and white, showing men in old-fashioned swimsuits and an outdated boat behind them, others showing smiling rowers in full colour. It didn't take much to notice that each one of the pictures represented a year, starting from 1868 to the past year. Harry didn't want to admit it, but he was pretty excited for this year's photo. He was not in the main team yet, but he planned to be in it in the near future.

In the hall, there were students and alumni, probably some of them were even related. During these events, it was easy to spot three generations belonging to the same family: grandfathers, fathers and sons. Well, and daughters too, but they were a minority. Harry had the feeling that he was the only one who had come alone. Well, certainly he couldn't have invited James to such occasion (or any other occasion for that matter).

"So Harry, what you wanna drink?" Mark asked, showing him around.

"Show me what you got." Harry was following him right behind. They arrived to the open bar, where Mark ordered for Harry.

"Oh, Harry. This is my father, Don." Mark presented a big man stopping in front of them with a warm smile. Like his son, he had a menacing look but they were truly two cinnamon rolls (gigantic cinnamon rolls).

The old man patted Harry's shoulder. "Nice to meet you, kid." Okay, if Mark was big on bear hugs, his father was certainly fond of painful pats. God, what was with these two?  
Harry stayed with them until he noticed something that certainly succeeded in catching his interest: guess what, it was none other than Draco Malfoy. He was taking his coat off, talking with a club's member who was laughing at something Draco had said.

Immediately, Harry decided that he needed to greet the guy since he was in his team and all.

"Hey, Lance," Harry greeted the dirty blonde, who promptly smiled at him.

"Oh hey. This your first time here, right?" he asked, receiving a nod from Harry. "First time I was embarrassed as hell since I was alone and everything, but they're all nice, really."

Harry was glad to hear it, but his eyes kept stealing glances at Draco, who was faking to mind his own business by grabbing a glass of something from the waiter.

"Right, this is Draco, my fraternity president-"

"Hi Draco, nice to see you again," interrupted Harry, smiling at Draco, who only nodded.

"Potter."

The look on Lance's face required an explanation. "Yeah I know him, I'm dating his sister," Harry said. He only wanted to make it clear that he already knew the black-haired guy. Like it held some kind of importance. Plus, he guessed he'd given the right choice for an excuse for the fact that Draco and he were not strangers to each other.

"Lyra? She's so nice; you should bring her more often to the house, Draco…" Then he saw one of the girls on the team and whatever the fuck he wanted to add, was erased from his mind. "Yeah, that's Claire. Wish me good luck." And sprinted towards the girl without hearing back from the two guys.

"Yeah, he's kind of in love with the chick," explained Draco.

Harry didn't care about Lance. He was grateful he had left them alone. "Didn't know you were the president there." He tried to start a conversation.

Draco shrugged. "Yeah, from this year. Apparently it's good on the resume, so… I don't really have to do anything, though."

"Then, good for you?" It didn't look like Draco was going to keep on talking, even if he certainly seemed interested enough to let his eyes trail up and down Harry's body. "So, uh, you like rowing?"

"No."

"Why you here then?"

"Lance whined for me to accompany him. And I needed to talk to a couple of old men here. For my dad. So all for the best." Draco started to scan the room, probably to see if he could spot the two men in question. Harry was having none of that. He wanted Draco to keep looking at him like he was a fucking ice-cream on a hot summer.

"You look good," he commented, because it was so true. This was the first time Harry saw Draco completely clean, perfectly shaved and wearing something of good taste. The black suit really looked sexy on him. Draco was sexy.

What he got was Draco's eyes ravaging him again. "Yeah, you too Potter." And, if his eyes were not enough, his damn tongue licked his lower lip. _Dammit, Draco_.

Harry was considering asking Draco to go talk in a more intimate place, when Draco was called out by someone in the room. He had to let him go.

Not with his eyes, though. And Draco's seemed to do just the same. Both of them were engrossed in conversations with other people. Yet, their eyes always found each other's. Or well, sometimes, Harry's eyes found Draco's ass, but that's behind the point.

There were also brushings. When they passed close to each other, there were some light bumps, and an almost non-existent touch of a finger against one's thigh.

Harry's eyes were mostly settled on spotting Draco, which is why he didn't notice one of the alumni right away. The fifty-year old man was looking at him with wide eyes. Fear tinged with a pinch of lust on his expression. Harry didn't recognize him at first, but then it hit him. That man was one of the married guys he had fooled around with when he had been partying hard during his full on manic experience in New York.

That was also the moment Draco decided to approach Harry.

"You know Zimmermann?" he asked, pointing at Harry's old fling with his chin. Draco was quietly sipping at his glass.

"Didn't know his name. I fucked him a few years ago." Harry replied. His tone was normal, but Draco almost choked on his drink. He had to cough several time before he spoke

"The fuck, man? That old fart?"

"I was high at that time," Harry simply replied.

Draco snorted. "You really like 'em way older."

"Think I'm over it now. Going for people my age, you know."

"You better or at this rate you'll have to work at a nursing home to get your seasoned meat." Harry jokingly shoved him off. "Anyway don't get with that old queen again. He's like indebted over his head with Pops."

"Yeah don't you worry. I wasn't planning on banging him tonight."

"Who's worried," muttered Draco. If Harry didn't know any better, Draco sounded slightly jealous.

Oh, right.

"Uh. Evan, you remember Evan, right? And his friend Stan came to me a few days ago to ask me if you had beaten me up that night and if I'd told you that I had also fucked Stan. Cause, you know. You fag-bashed him, too." Draco stiffened. "I don't remember ever telling you anything 'bout him."

Draco finished his drink in one gulp. "Nah. Wasn't fag-bashing. He was just pissing me and my guys off."

"Really?" Harry cocked one eyebrow.

"Really."

Harry decided to accept his explanation without further investigation. From the way Draco was gripping at his glass, he seemed ready to bolt any time. Wanting to find a neutral topic, Harry pointed at the walls. "Have you seen the pictures? Especially the old sepia ones, I find them utterly interesting-"

"Want to see more interesting stuff?" asked Draco abruptly.

"Uh, yeah?"

Draco nodded towards the stairs and Harry promptly followed. The dark-haired guy led him to an expansive room filled with trophies and medals and pictures. Some of the trophies were on the shelves, others behind glass. Some big and important, others small but always worth of being exposed.

"The trophy room," Harry said in awe.

"No shit, Sherlock." Draco went near a display case. "Wanna show you something."

Harry approached, leaning very close to Draco. He smelled like cologne. It was the first time he smelled of something that was not shower procrastination or sweat and all Harry wanted was to bury his nose into his neck and breath the cologne as well as that inebriating smell that was just Draco's. He must have closed his eyes, because Draco elbowed him on the abdomen. Surprisingly, rather gently.

Harry opened his eyes, looking at the trophies and pictures on the display. At first he didn't understand what Draco wanted to show to him. That was until he noticed the nametags close to a picture with smiling men wearing medals around their necks. 'Malfoy'. Precisely 'Ara L. Malfoy' and 'Sirius O. Malfoy'. Two huge boys happily grinning for their victory.

"Ara and Sirius. My two oldest brothers," explained Draco. "Big idiots. It was taken six years ago, when they won the last regatta of the year."

Harry was aware about what had happened to his brother Sirius, Lyra had told him. But like everyone else in her family, she had not gone into details. And Harry was certainly not going to ask Draco about him.

"Sirius OD'd the next summer, after graduation."

Harry knew that much. Lyra had also told him that she suspected it had been the result of Lucius's persistent pressures. "I'm sorry," said Harry.

"Nah." Draco shrugged. "I was twelve when he left for college and we never really got along, you know. Ara was destroyed, though. He actually stopped taking drugs after it. They loved party favours."

He noticed Draco didn't mention his father. Harry decided not to enquire about him. He had come to the understanding that Lucius was a taboo argument by now.

"And that's my uncle Orion." Draco pointed to a trophy on one of the shelves. "And some of my cousins should be here as well."

"So why are you not on the team, again?"

"Me?" Draco arched his eyebrows. "I'm not the sporty type. I only exercise in my room and especially using my bed.

"Oh yeah?" Harry asked, hoping Draco didn't just mean he used the bed frame as a tool for his push-ups.

"Mhm, yeah." Draco pointed the corner of his mouth with the tongue. It was a clear sign he was getting aroused. "And then… I mean, rowing fits you best. You get a nice, muscular, broad back. Looks good."

"Thanks." Then Harry leaned closer, his voice getting lower. "You know, I think we've established that you can exercise in other places other than your own room. A janitor's closet is also good. Or a bathroom stall in a dirty pub. A tree, also… A trophy room?"

Draco's breath hitched slightly, looking at Harry straight in his eyes. Why his eyes had to be so much brighter than the trophies? It sounded so corny but it was true, at least for the redhead. "Never exercised in a trophy room."

"Wanna try?"

"If there's a lock on the door," Draco replied. As soon as Harry locked the door, he heard the soft sound of pants hitting the floor.

Draco wasn't wasting his time and he quickly discarded all of his clothes. Noticing the surprise on Harry's look, he only shrugged. "Can't get the clothes dirty. Hurry the fuck up."

Harry proceeded to undress at a fast pace, but apparently it was not enough for Draco. Harry was still wearing his shirt and socks when Draco approached him and helped to unbutton the shirt. "C'mon Risky Business, you're so fucking slow."

Harry grinned, letting Draco finishing taking off all of his clothes. His hands went to cup Draco's balls instead. "Yeah, I know you like it fast." He leaned down to bite the shorter guy's earlobe and Draco surprisingly let him. Probably he was more focused on the feeling of Harry's hand palming his crotch.

Draco moaned. "And good and hard." He went to reciprocate Harry's gesture, starting to stroke Harry's growing erection. "Gonna give it to me like that?"

"As much as you want," groaned Harry. Their faces were so close it was a matter of inches to kiss. Harry's eyes were fixed on Draco's lips. That until Draco went down on his knees. He pressed one hand against Harry's thigh and resumed the stroking with the other. Harry was rock hard by then.

"God, your cock," Draco commented, eyes staring at Harry's penis. Harry had to bite his tongue to prevent it from let the words "Not God's, Harry's" out. He wanted to fuck, not get jabbed in the groin. Really, why did he possess such a lame sense of humour?

"Mhm… use your mouth to suck instead of talking," he replied instead. It was the right response, because Draco didn't castrate him, but went down on him, taking his cock into his mouth. Draco was definitely a pro in blowjobs. He knew how to tease, how to make Harry whither with a twist of his tongue. Harry was in serious need of a wall to lean on, because his knees were about to give up. "Fuck. Fuck, Draco. Just… That's enough. Stand up."

Draco looked up, meeting Harry's eyes. He pulled out so very slowly, ending with a lewd 'pop'. He licked a drop of precum, sliding his tongue from the base to the tip of his shaft. Then he closed his mouth, letting Harry hear the sound of Draco gulping down his precum.

"Fuck, Draco…" Harry murmured, never taking his eyes off Draco's. The shorter guy smirked and stood up. He looked around to find a place to lean on with his hands but the walls were all full of displays and shelves. Draco decided to grab one of the latter then.

The sight of Draco spreading his legs was always a vision for Harry. That's why Draco once again had the duty of shaking him from his staring. "Get my fucking wallet, will ya?"

Harry dashed to retrieve the wallet and opened it, pulling out a sachet of lube and a condom. A condom Harry's size. Harry didn't know whether to presume Draco put a Magnum in his wallet because of Harry or just because he was a fucking size queen in general. Harry was inclined to consider the former; first because Harry really wanted to think that, secondly Draco seemed to know Harry was a member of the rowing club… Wait.  
 _Draco came here for me?_

Harry was quick to dissipate the dangerous thought from his mind and slicked his fingers with lube. He entered with one finger and Draco immediately relaxed for him. He pushed another finger inside, then a third. Fuck. He loved that tightness. That warmth. While he was inside with his fingers, Draco was already rocking back to meet him halfway.

"Mhm… Pots just get in me," groaned Draco.

"Please."

Draco stilled for a second, his breath caught. Then turned his head. "Pretty please with a cherry on top. Now get on with it," he said with a smirk.

Harry pulled out his fingers, rolling his condom on. He used the lube to slick himself up. "You know, you actually sounded adorable saying that shit."

"Fuck off."

"Thought you wanted me to fuck you," Harry replied. He grabbed Draco's ass. Hands spreading his ass cheeks. He could spend hours only squeezing that plump butt. Harry guided his erection to press against Draco's hole, but not entering it.

Draco rocked his ass back to meet Harry's tip. "Oh, c'mon man!" Still, Harry was not entering him. "Yes! Fuck! I want you to fuck me, please!" he whimpered.

Having gotten what he wanted, Harry pushed inside in one go, taking his time once he bottomed out. Harry had been dying to just fuck him, but it was so worth it to make Draco beg. Draco clenched his ass to get Harry to move. And Harry did. Fast, good and hard, just like Draco preferred it.

"Fuck. Fuck… Yes! Right there, mhn…" Draco met every thrust in earnest and Harry was on fucking cloud nine. The trophies tottering hard on the shelves as a consequence of their movements.

"Draco… So good. So tight for me." Harry grabbed him forcefully by his hips. He knew Draco liked it and Harry loved it too. He loved to see his handwork made of bruises on those hips. He wanted to mark Draco all over his body. With that pale skin, the stark contrast of a hickey had to be so evident. Harry's thoughts went so much in that one direction that when he pressed against Draco's back, he bit the juncture between the neck and the shoulder. Draco let out a gasp, which became a moan when Harry started to lick and suck on the mark and then softly kissed it. His ass clenched and he let Harry take control of his neck, while he was occupied jerking himself off.

"Gonna come…" Draco warned, the stroking more frenetic.

Harry was nipping at his nape, slamming erratically into his ass. "Yeah… me too."  
It just took another bite from Harry for Draco to get off, spluttering against a framed picture dated 1901. Harry followed right behind, coming into the condom. They rested for a while there, Draco not complaining about Harry's dead weight on his back. When Harry pulled out, Draco turned around to lean against the shelves. It was clearly uncomfortable but good to keep himself steady. Harry did exactly the same. 

"Wow…" Harry muttered.

Draco agreed. "Yeah…" he looked like a satisfied cat, all soft and loose. It was a real pity to watch him get dressed. Harry guessed it was time to put on some clothes too. 

When the soiree ended, Harry went to his apartment at peace with the world. Draco had left practically after they had fucked. With at least three hickeys. At that point Harry was all happy and shit and he had truly been charming and amiable with all the guests through the rest of the night.

Ron was on the sofa when Harry opened the door. As soon as Harry made the gesture of opening his mouth, Ron got up.

"Don't even try it."

"W-What?"

"That's an 'I want to talk about Draco' expression. No way, Harry. My ears bled enough already. Not gonna put them through your Draco ramblings again."

With that, Ron turned off the TV, grabbed his water bottle, and speed up to his door, slamming it behind him.

He opened it once again to wish a "Good night" to a dumbfounded Harry. He closed it soon after


	11. Bang and not in the good way

"See Lyra? That's what good friends do. They accompany each other to parties," said Harry. The couple was arm in arm walking towards a party hosted by Draco's fraternity.

Lyra snorted. "Didn't ask you to, you invited yourself."

The redhead put on an almost scandalized face. "And let you go back to the dorm all alone in the middle of the night? Nah."

"Yeah, sure. Truth is you're coming with me only to see my dumbass of a brother," said Lyra with a knowing smile.

This time Harry's face abandoned all the scandalized pretense and looked visibly shocked and scared. "What?" He had to put much effort only to exhale that single word and not choke on it.

"You thought you could fool me? I saw you two together," she accused.

 _Oh, fuck._

If Lyra wasn't gonna kill him, Draco was. If Lyra didn't kill her brother first. "Lyra, it's not what you think…" started Harry.

Lyra gave him a punch to the chest. "It's not? I saw you two all buddy-buddy sharing a cigarette. Harry, don't tell me you've joined the Draco's fan club! I thought better of you!"

"…What?" This time the word came so very natural. "The fuck are you talking about?"

"Sharing a cigarette, laughing at one of his stupid jokes…" Lyra put on one of her best pouts ever. "You're _my_ boyfriend. Not Draco's pawn."

That was all? Harry started to laugh, giving Lyra a big kiss on the cheek. "Don't worry, girlfriend. Your jokes make me laugh more."

She smiled, releasing her arm from his, to wrap it around his waist instead. "You bet."

Reaching the house, Harry wasn't sure if he was relieved by Lyra's obliviousness or a little disappointed by it. Was it so wrong to desire to share the secret with his best friend? Harry wanted to tell her everything about Draco and him. But then, was there really a Draco _and_ him? Maybe it was just stupid and suicidal to tell Lyra something that was not as important as he thought. Especially with the not so subtle threat of Draco killing him if he did.

So Harry just settled on keeping his mouth shut and enter the house with Lyra.

Even though the party had just started, some girls were already wasted and dancing on a table. Lyra spotted Draco right away. He was smoking a blunt surrounded by other frat bros. She went straight to him and snatched the blunt from his fingers.

"Hey, assface," she greeted, taking a drag.

Draco snatched the blunt right back. That's when he noticed Harry and nodded towards him.

"What's he doing in here?"

"He's my boyfriend. He comes with me wherever I want." Lyra replied. She made a gesture to take the blunt again, but Draco gave it to Harry, who went to sit on the coffee table in front of the couch the siblings were slouched on. Instinctively, Harry grabbed it, bringing it to his lips.

Lyra huffed. "You better not become best friends. I need Harry's support when I'm bitching about you." She took the blunt from Harry's fingers and dashed to the kitchen to prevent Harry or Draco from get it back.

Draco just scoffed, lighting up another blunt. "Here," he offered, after taking the first drag. Harry wasn't sure it was okay to smoke weed more than once in his situation, but he figured it wasn't that big of a deal. These days he was feeling rather good, taking a break from worrying for one day wasn't gonna kill him. He had even messed up his meds schedule a little and skipped taking them once or twice, but no dire consequences so far.

The blond haired guy seemed relaxed in Harry's company. A mixture of alcohol and drugs probably induced the chill, but Harry was not complaining. They were sort of going out these days. If hanging out at a bar or walking together while smoking could be considered as dates. Right there, though, Draco didn't seem to care if Harry stared for too long at that little gap between the hem of his blue shirt and the waistband of his jeans. He actually seemed to be enjoying it, if his tongue pointing at the corner of his mouth was any hint.

They were just finishing their blunt in comfortable silence but heated glances, when two of Draco's minions jumped to sit on either side of Draco.

"Hey Dray, where's your deck?" they asked.

Draco arched an eyebrow. "Wanna play poker?"

They shook their heads. "No, California Kings."

"Then you're not getting my deck. Lucky's just for poker," answered Draco calmly. "Get one from Jameslin or Gates."

The two guys nodded, getting up to look for the other frat boys, when Draco called them back. Their faces turning to Draco immediately.

"Count me in," he said. He looked at Harry with an arched eyebrow. "You too, Potter?"

Harry thought about if for half a second before nodding. "Yeah, why not."

After taking possession of someone else's deck, Draco, Harry, and three other guys were at the table with a large cup in the middle of it and several red smaller plastic cups and different kinds of bottles. A moment later, Lyra took a seat right next to her ginger boyfriend.

"Well, why wasn't I invited?" she spat, placing more small cups in front of her. "You need a girl here or this is going to be a sausage fest."

Draco snorted "Thanks for your lesson in etiquette, Martha Stewart."

She only shrugged. When one of the guys started shuffling the cards, she leaned close to Harry. "You sure you wanna play? Gotta drink here, you know."

Harry gave her a little shoulder bump, nodding. "Yeah, I have it under control, don't you worry. Drinking more than usual once in a fucking while is not the end of the world."

Lyra didn't look so persuaded, but she nodded in return. She handed him the cards. "Let's play, then."

"Well, it's time for the boys to drink," Lyra said, placing a Jack of Hearts on the wet, sticky table. The five guys playing groaned but they all raised their cups and gulped their contents.

All of the players knew the game, but Harry knew a slightly different version and so they had to explain it to him. It was actually a simple game when everybody knew the same rules. Everybody had to bring to the table one or more alcoholic beverage of their choices. Every card they extracted from the deck would mean something in term of drinking. For example, if he or she picked an 8 they became the Thumb Master, they would put their thumb on the table and the last one to do so would have to drink. An Ace would mean celebrating a toast drinking all together. The King cards were different because for the first three Kings no one would have to drink, but only pour their drink in the big cup. The last King, however, meant drinking all the content of the big cup, whatever alcoholic mix in there.

They were in the middle of the game and two Kings were already out. The big cup had already been filled with vodka and tequila. Nobody really wanted to chug the King's cup down. Harry, however, was feeling so good. Really, it was like going to a buffet after a strenuous diet: total relief and gluttony. There was a nice buzz going through his body and his head was light and only full of the funniest things. Probably the blunt they were passing around helped with that. When Harry drew a 7 of Spades, he declared Waterfall and everybody started to swallow the liquid in their cups without stopping. That, until Harry almost choked on his drink and the others slowly stopped to drink.

The next one to draw a card was Draco, who placed the third King on the pile of the already used cards. He poured his beer in the cup, making the alcoholic mix even worse than before. Draco was a total heavyweight and he still looked in control of his movements. Or perhaps he was one of those people who looked totally cool one moment and passed out the other.

It goes without saying that when there were only three cards left to draw, they were all much more than tipsy. One of the guys was out, snorting on his chair. The one on Lyra's left side was looking at the King's cup with fear: it was his turn to pick one of the few remaining cards and the odds were not in his favor.

Yet it was Lyra who drew the last King card. The guy next to her started to laugh in relief, until the girl kicked his chair and he fell down on his face. Harry patted her back, smiling. "C'mon Ly, you can do this!" he encouraged her.

Lyra didn't look as sure as Harry did, but she took the cup with both of her hands and, after a sigh, she started to swallow the whole content. She choked on it twice, but she managed to drink all of it.

She put the cup down, burped, then she got up from the chair. "I think I need to go to the bathroom," she said, before collapsing on the floor with a thud.

Harry and Draco immediately jumped on their feet. They both rushed to help her. After ascertaining that Lyra was fine, just passed out, they looked at each other and nodded. Maybe it was telepathy, maybe it was just common sense, but they had thought the same thing. Harry took her shoulders, Draco grabbed her legs and they managed to get her up to lay her on her brother's bed.

"I'll go get the bucket!" Harry exclaimed, rushing out of the room.

He came back five seconds later, confused.

"Do you have a bucket?" he asked.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Stay here," he said, before going to the bathroom and returning with a fucking bucket, which he placed next to his bed.

"Look, Dray. She almost seems like an angel," Harry commented, his eyes on Lyra.

Draco too had his eyes on his sister, but all he could see was a drunk, passed out girl lying on her side, her shirt soaked from the content of the King's cup she couldn't swallow. Snoring as usual. "Yeah, sure, an angel through and through," remarked with a snort.

They both started to laugh.

Harry let not even a minute pass before smiling at Draco. "So, what are we gonna do now?"

Draco arched an eyebrow. "Pass out as well?"

Harry could feel Draco relaxing. Like, once in his room, Draco could let go of every control he had to shield himself with and stop pretending. Pretending what, Harry was not sure that even Draco himself knew. Draco's aura seemed to convey the message it was time to leave him alone.

But Harry was having none of that. He wanted to spend some quality time alone with Draco, just being who they were. They were both drunk and high and Harry thought there was no reason why they shouldn't have some fun together.

"Already? I was thinking about a ride," proposed Harry.

"A what?"

"Yeah, a ride. You promised me one the other day, remember? You were like bragging about how cool your car is and you told me you were gonna take me for a ride." Harry laughed to himself "Still don't know if you meant car sex or driving but I'm up for both."

Draco shoved him a little, but he was amused. "You always so perky when hammered?" he asked.

"I'm a naturally perky person," Harry replied with a shrug. "So. Key?"

"Yeah, yeah, key..." Draco looked around with foggy eyes before patting his back pocket. "Got it."

They were at the parking lot behind the house in a matter of seconds. Or at least, that was how long it felt like they had been walking. Truth was, they had wobbled through the whole way to the car. Draco had even let Harry touch him in ways that were forbidden in public. Like slowly caressing his neck or coming so close to Draco they could smell each other's scent and feel hotter than usual on such a chilly night.

Draco's sports car was there in all its beauty. It was a 2015 Dodge Viper, all black and inviting. Draco had gotten it for his birthday last year and he had loved it ever since. It was fast and sinuous and he hadn't let many people inside his motorized baby. It was so shiny under the moonlight that Harry thought that Draco probably washed his car more than himself.

Draco unlocked the Viper. "Driver or passenger seat?" he asked Harry.

He hadn't even had to ask, because Harry jumped on the driver seat, sinking into it with ease. Draco huffed and took the other seat.

Harry thought that Draco looked so fucking good in that car. The paleness of his skin a stark contrast with the black and red of the interior. Harry had to look just as hot, because Draco was glancing at him and pushing his damn tongue against the corner of his even more damned mouth.

 _Fucking mouth…_

Harry's whole attention was addressed at Draco's lips, deep pink and wet. He wanted to taste them so badly. He had tried the first time they had fucked, but all he had got out of it was a threat involving the excruciating pain of a tongue removal. After that, Harry hadn't had any more opportunities to kiss him because their sex positions had never let their faces to get closer together. His greatest achievement had been kissing Draco behind his ear, and only a small peck.

Yet, the way Draco was looking at him… Maybe it was the moonlight, but the atmosphere between them seemed almost romantic. Harry would've sworn that Draco's eyes were also set on his lips. Harry leaned closer, so close his nostrils were provided a mixture of Draco's scent and the unmistakable smell of leather from their seats. The redhead placed a hand against Draco's headrest to gain balance. He also gave the other guy a chance to back off. But Draco didn't. He bit his bottom lip if nothing else. The blond-haired guy didn't know where to rest his eyes. They would linger on Harry's own, or his lips or somewhere else entirely. They were full of fear and want. Harry just wanted to make them shut and enjoy the kiss he so longed to give Draco. He felt Draco's breath mingle with his own, sign that he was so close he could finally brush his lips against Draco's.

 _Draco..._

Unfortunately the kiss didn't happen. Draco turned his head at the last second and all Harry got to put his lips on was the palm of Draco's hand. The blond-haired guy backed off. A look of guilt on his face under Harry's accusing stare.

Draco couldn't do it. That much was clear. Harry wondered if he would've ever been able to accept it in the future. Or if Draco would've dumped his ass before coming to that situation.

Harry leaned back, resting against his seat. Then he locked the seat belt.

"Let's go then," he said. He didn't want to get bitter over the kiss. He was having too much fun to ruin that night by holding a grudge.

"Huh?" Draco turned back his head to look at Harry. "Go where?"

"The ride? Remember?" Harry asked, grabbing the wheel. He so needed to take his mind off Draco's refusal. What better solution than driving a fast car?

Draco shook his head, holding onto his key. "Yeah. Not gonna happen. You're too drunk to drive and so am I."

"So what? Am I just supposed to move the steering wheel like a child?" The redhead snatched the key from Draco's grasp with an unusual speed for a hammered person. He shoved off the other guy who tried to take it back and inserted it into the ignition, causing the car to start with a roar.

"Whoa!" exclaimed Harry, all excited for the powerful sound of the engine. "This is gonna be so good..."

"Potter, c'mon." Draco began pleading, moving a hand towards the inserted key. But Harry slapped away his hand and heavily pressed the gas pedal. The Viper immediately reacted. "Harry..."

Had Harry been listening, the sound of that word alone would've put a big smile on his face. But Harry had invested all his attention to the car. Especially, its horse power.

"Just enjoy the ride, Dray! Don't be so grumpy all the fucking time!" he exclaimed, pushing the gas pedal further. The car was happily rumbling under his guidance, getting faster and faster by the second. Harry could feel pure energy slip into his skin, like electricity running through his body, giving him goose bumps. The adrenaline was kicking in, and Harry couldn't have been more excited.

It was not the speed of light, but Harry wanted to get close to it. He wanted to test the power engine, see how fast the car could go. He was only slightly aware of Draco's words being pronounced in the car. The tone of voice suggested they were trying to tell him to calm down, but he was having none of that. He didn't need to calm the fuck down. He was free. He had everything under control, he wasn't that drunk to begin with, anyway. He was fine.

 _Faster faster faster_

He could go even faster. He was driving the Viper so well. He almost felt sorry for her, with a master who would not take her for fast rides. But Harry was freeing her as well. Limits were stupid. _Oh, an avenue_. The street was large and empty, he could totally take the car at her maximum speed. He and the car were almost the same thing now. His buzzing energy was her buzzing energy. His freedom her freedom. The Viper was roaring under his feet and fuck if this was not one of the best feelings ever. Plus, Draco was there with him, next to him; he was accompanying him in this big, thrilling adventure and Harry couldn't ask for more. No wait, he could. He could just press the gas pedal further. Go at such a speed all the worries he had ever had would simply back off and surrender. He was the king now, on this road, nothing behind and hope in front of him. It was right. It was damn fucking right. It was-

"HARRY! WATCH OUT!"

 _Huh?_

Harry finally focused on two lights coming straight towards them. He could hear the sounds of friction, screeching tires. Of a voice in his head that was telling him to keep on going, because he was the king of the road. The other car was halting, his was still roaring. They could just go, go. _Go_.

"HARRY!"

Draco's voice brought him back to the reality of the moment. The two lights were so close to them. The Viper was going so fast.

Harry hastily turned the wheel right.

The car followed his movement. But then it stopped following Harry's orders. He was not her master anymore, he was not worthy. Harry hit the brake with his foot, but the car mercilessly proceeded.

She went straight against a metallic fence.

She didn't care for it. Nor for the screaming of the two boys inside of her cage.

She just kept on going.

Until she crashed into a tree.


	12. Aftermath

The loud sounds of the crashing and the screaming were followed by silence. Maybe Harry couldn't hear anything because after such a deafening noise other sounds always seemed dull in comparison. Like when Harry would go clubbing every night in the middle of London, he'd come back home wasted and nearly deaf. Just a constant ringing noise that excluded any others, deeply placed in his ears. The same annoying noise he was hearing right now. When he opened his eyes, at first Harry thought he had gone blind because all he could see around him was white, but the pungent smell of gun powder in his nostrils and the silkiness that he was feeling engulfing his face, suggested otherwise.

"Harry. Hey, are you okay?"

Draco's voice fell through the buzzing and Harry turned his attention to the blond-haired guy.

"What? Yeah, yeah. Fuck this shit!"

Harry punched his bloated airbag, not deflating it in the slightest. He sighed, resting his head against it."You? Fine?" He questioned the other boy.

Draco nodded, managing to unbuckle his seatbelt with some difficulty due to the inflated white balloon. Through the still intact windshield they could see the hood of the car smashed against the trunk. Almost as if the Viper wanted to hug the tree tight. It appeared pretty clear that the car was not going to take Draco for a ride any time soon.

From behind, the two lights from before were approaching. They heard a car pulling over and a voice shouting in their direction.

"Hey! You alright in there?"

The owner of the car that had caused Harry to jerk the wheel so abruptly opened his car door.

"All that fucker's fault!" cried Harry in a whisper, angrily.

"Yeah, sure. _His_ fault. Just thank the fence, instead. I'm kinda glad I'm still alive."

The chain-link fence had certainly helped to dampen the intensity of the speed, saving them from a deadly crash. Instead, they were safe and sound. Harry was feeling only a slight pain on one of his biceps. He'd have a bruise in the morning, nothing more.

"We're fine!" shouted Draco, hearing the man coming closer.

"I called a Healer!" replied the man with the same loud tone of voice.

"But there's no need..." Harry was saying, when he remembered. "The Aurors could come too?"

Draco nodded, looking fairly pissed off. Whether it was because of the Aurors, the Healers, the drunk driving, or simply the fact that Harry had just ruined his beloved car, Harry didn't know.

He then proceeded to add some fuel to the fire. "I don't even have a driver's license."

Draco grunted, looking at Harry in a way the redhead couldn't decipher. "I guess it's okay if you don't have it on you. Drunk driving is already enough."

"Huh. No." At Draco arched eyebrow, Harry had to admit the truth. "I don't have a driver license. Like, I never had it."

"WHAT?" Draco's face was pure disbelief. "What the fuck, Potter!"

"I've never had the chance before..." Harry tried to say. Draco covered his eyes with the palm of his hands, barely shaking his head. After a moment of silence, Draco spoke.

"Okay, we need to switch places," said Draco, uncovering his face. His voice appeared determined, as if he had made up his mind over an internal dispute.

"Wha-" Harry began to say, before Draco unbuckled the redhead's seatbelt and grabbed him by the shirt. In a fairly awkward movement due to the airbags still being inflated, Draco managed to throw Harry on the passenger seat and find himself in the driver's. They probably hurt themselves more during the place exchange than from the crash.

"Draco-" Harry was interrupted again by the other guy, who grabbed Harry by his neck, pulling him closer. Draco's eyes were menacing now, that much Harry could understand.

" _I_ was at the wheel. You understand?"

Harry couldn't even reply this time, now that the other driver knocked against Draco's side of the car.

"The Healers should be here anytime now!"

Harry looked at the guy. He seemed like a good person, certainly more concerned about their safety than they were. Draco only nodded, while Harry managed to whisper a "Thank you".

The Healers arrived soon after. From the way they automatically reacted it appeared that assisting drunken college boys having an incident was nothing out of the ordinary. Harry and Draco appeared to be fine, but the Healers told them to get checked at a hospital if they felt any symptoms of a concussion in the next days.

The exchange between Healers and Aurors didn't take that much time. As soon as the two boys were declared without any evident injuries, two Aurors took over. They had talked with the other driver while Harry and Draco had been seen to by the Healers, taking his statement.

Auror Kingsley and Auror Tonks wanted to have their statements as well. Harry didn't know what to say to them, after Draco's words from before. Actually, he was supposed to tell the Aurors that he was just an innocent passenger. But Harry didn't want Draco to take the blame for something he did not do. Their alcohol levels had already been tested and even though the crash didn't cause any damages but their own, the Aurors would never let them go with a pat on their back. It was also true that drunk driving without a driver license was even worse, but...

"Sorry Auror, I took my friend here for a ride, but I guess I was too drunk to see straight," Draco said, before Harry could make up his mind and confess it was _his_ fault.

The Auror couldn't care less whose fault it was and they scribbled something down while nodding. Harry, by comparison, was almost paralysed. Should he really just stand there and let Draco take the blame? A glance from Draco silently told him that yes, he should.

They kept their words to themselves during the ride to the Aurors station. While they were made to wait on a bench, Harry was fidgeting. On the other hand, Draco appeared calm and relaxed. He took his phone and called someone, telling them where he was and that he had had a car accident while drunk. He didn't indulge further in the phone call and pocketed his phone right away.

"Who was that?" Harry asked.

Draco shrugged. "Help. Don't worry about it."

 _Don't worry about it_. Like it was easy. Harry had been arrested before, for little stuff, like public indecency. But they went on record nonetheless. He just needed drunk driving without driving license to add to the list. But then, Draco had told him he was taking the blame...

Harry was shaken out of his thoughts by a hand on his shoulder. Draco's.

Draco was standing in front of him. When he was sure he had gotten Harry's attention, he nodded towards two men in suits who were coming closer.

Harry looked at Draco with a confused expression.

"The help," informed the blond-haired guy. "I need to go talk to them."

Having that said, Draco left Harry still seated on the wooden bench. Harry saw him talking with the 'help'. One was a nicely bearded man on his fifties, with an air of importance around him; the other was much younger, probably just a little bit older than Draco. He also sported the same blue eyes. He was standing there with a briefcase in each of his hands, nodding sometimes. Draco was mostly holding the conversation with the older man, pointing with his head to Harry a few times. The bearded man exchanged words with his companion and the other went straight to talk to an Auror.

Harry wanted to do something, not just sit there like an idiot. Only, when he made a move to stand up, Draco found his eyes and shook his head. Harry sat down properly again, but really, he was annoyed as fuck. He could just hope that Draco knew what he was doing.

Not even five minutes passed before an Auror stopped in front of Harry.

"Well, you're free to go," he said, hooking his fingers in the loops of his dark blue pants.

Harry looked bewildered. "Me?"

"Yeah, you. I don't see anyone else in front of me, do I?"

Harry decided not to reply back and instead he looked in Draco's direction, who curled his finger as a sign for Harry to get closer. Harry could finally stand up for real and went straight to hear what the other guy had to say.

"I called you a taxi," Draco said.

"Why?" was Harry first response.

"Usually cabs are used to take someone to another place," Draco replied. His tone so serious it almost looked as if Draco really thought Harry was that stupid. After what had happened that night, Harry didn't want to start a discussion about that topic.

"You comin' with?"

"Can't," Draco said. He then nodded towards the hall. "Stayin' here for a little while longer. I'm gonna come back in the morning, I hope. In the meantime I need you to go back to Lyra. She can't stay alone in her condition. Just go check on her, alright?"

Harry nodded. He had sobered up pretty well by now and he felt like shit for leaving his best friend alone and...

"I-I'm sorry for-" _the car. For everything, actually._

Before Harry could complete his apology, Draco stopped him with a glare.

"Nothing to be sorry about," he said, looking at the bearded man close enough to them to listen to what they were saying. Draco looked at his phone. "Cab's outside. If Lyra vomits on my bed you gotta clean."

Left with nothing else to say, Draco turned again to the older man and waved Harry goodbye with a jerk of his hand.

Harry woke up in a foreign place. He had a headache and overall he felt like shit, what with his stinky breath and pain all over his arm, probably the bruise he had been expecting. He also felt wet on his back and that was totally unexpected. Until he heard some heavy snoring from behind him.

Lyra.

She had drooled all over him, so it was no wonder the back of his shirt was now soaked in spit. Harry groaned and turned around to look at his sleepy girlfriend. At the moment she wasn't exactly a beauty: drool and messy hair and her skin smelled the typical scent of someone who got really drunk the night before. Plus, she had woken up when Harry had entered the room and she had proceeded to greet him by throwing up everything she had in her. Harry had gotten to Lyra before she could make a total mess of her hair. He had then flushed down the toilet the contents of the bucket and put it back close to Lyra, in case she needed it again. Result: the bedroom smelled like vomit and alcohol. Not that it was the first time he had woken up in a similar situation.

Harry got up and rubbed his eyes. The first constructive thing he did was to open the window. It was very cold, but at least the air in the room would clear out the smell a little. Lyra's reaction was only to curl herself up more under the cover and continue on sleeping. The brunette took the bucket and went to the bathroom to wash it out. It was 7:30 and no sign of Draco yet. Harry hoped he was fine. He wanted to talk to him as soon as possible. Last night ended rather abruptly and he needed to know that things were fine between them.

Coming back from the bathroom, he nudged Lyra on her shoulder.

"Hey, Lyra," he called her.

Lyra murmured something, trying to bury herself more deeply under the cover.

"Lyra..." Harry shoved her shoulder with a little more force. Lyra opened her eyes just a little bit, enough to glare at Harry through foggy eyes.

"What." It was not even a question, just the first word she had come up with.

"Just in case you don't remember. You got wasted yesterday and you slept in Draco's room." Harry bit his bottom lip before adding. "Oh, by the way, Draco and I had a car accident last night. Think Draco's still at the Aurors station and its kinda my fault. So, yeah. Need to go now, bye."

Harry blurted the last sentences in a matter of a few seconds, before he sprang to the door to open it and close it behind him at the speed of light. This time, Lyra's 'WHAT' exploded and Harry could hear it loud and clear while climbing down the stairs.

All bundled up in his coat, Harry walked towards his apartment. It was a Sunday chilly morning, cold, but the sky was cloudless and the sun was gently touching his face. It was definitely a good day. He liked it. It was the perfect moment to go for a run.

Running was good. Running was healthy. It was possible to just switch off his damn brain and let his feet lead him down a path he knew by heart by now. Harry would sweat off all the alcohol in his system and by the end of the exercise his mind would be clear and free to help him decide how to act with Draco the next time he'd see the guy. What do you say to the person whose car you destroyed? Who, on top of that, saved your ass?

Yeah, jogging was the answer.

Harry opened the door. He didn't hear any sounds come from the living room, nor Ron's room. His roommate was probably still asleep or lazily reading a book in bed. He wasn't exactly a morning person.

Before brushing his teeth or changing into his sportswear, Harry needed to eat something. He had several high carbs bars stocked in his kitchen cabinet and he thought about eating one and easily burn all the calories during the run.

He went to open the cabinet but he stopped abruptly looking at the state the kitchen was in. Just one world could describe it: messy. It was a fucking mess. There weren't empty bottles trashed everywhere or tomato sauce splattered on the burners. The problem was the order. There was no logic in how Ron and he himself had organized the kitchen supplies and the various food packages. It was all so wrong.

Perhaps Harry could arrange them a little before going for his run. Just a bit.

Harry took off his shoes and started taking the cereal boxes out of the cupboard, the plates, the cutlery, and several cans full of soup. It was all messy and Harry noticed traces of dust on some of the higher shelves. Maybe the reorganizing would take a little bit longer than predicted.

Ron woke up to the sound of ceramic crashing on the floor. It was Sunday morning. Sunday mornings were made for sleeping till late. Sunday mornings were dedicated to the God of laziness and procrastination. Sunday mornings were Ron's best time of the week and he could make an exception only during the weeks prior the finals. Not in fucking February because some pottery got smashed in the kitchen.

He opened his bloodshot eyes. He hadn't even gotten wasted the previous night, just played on the computer for far too long in the wee hours. He massaged his eyelids, grumbling some curses. He let out a wide yawn when he entered the living room/open kitchen, ready to start a fight with Harry and his noisy behaviour. If he had broken his favourite mug, Harry was gonna pay.

The scene he found himself staring at, however, caused Ron to immediately lose his mild anger as shock replaced it instead.

"Harry?"

Ron had never seen Harry like that before. The redhead was surrounded by boxes, cutlery, jars, plates, and all the things one could find in a kitchen. Ron didn't even know they had so many things in their small kitchen. Harry had his laptop on his crossed legs and was looking rather absorbed at whatever he had on the screen. He took notice of his roommate standing not that far from him, however, and looked up to greet him.

"Oh, Hey!" Harry smiled and turned to his laptop. Then, as if he had an intuition, he showed Ron what he was looking at on the screen.

"You think we should get it?" he asked, scrolling down to let him see the object and all its characteristics. Ron looked at it before frowning.

"We don't need another cupboard, Harry," Ron replied, looking at a black cupboard too big to even fit in there.

"We'll need it after the stuff I ordered arrives," said Harry, opening new tabs to look at other cupboards on the site.

"What stuff?" Ron was almost scared to ask. It was the first time Harry behaved like that, all focused on buying useless junk online, surrounded by just as much junk. Something was ringing a bell in his head.

Harry shrugged. "Oh, you know. We needed groceries anyways and new boxes. And new plates, sorry, I broke one of yours -right, pay attention to the pieces on the counter-, but don't you worry, I bought even better china. But we need to organize more. I was about to go for a run earlier, but the mess here kinda stopped me. So yeah, maybe a cupboard is what we should get." He pointed with his index finger to another cupboard model. "This one maybe? I think it's just perfect."

"Harry..." started Ron, only to stop right after. He didn't know how to tackle the argument.

"What?" Harry stared at him in confusion. "You don't even like this one? You got no taste, Ron."

"Did you take your pills?" Ron blurted out. He had never been good at talking in circles.

Harry glared at him. The previous confusion disappeared from his eyes. He didn't like to be reminded of the pills, Ron knew that. But he also knew that Harry hadn't come home last night and his friend had never done that before. So yes, he was worried and needed to know everything was okay.

But he didn't receive the response he desired.

"No. I forgot. Also yesterday. But now it's too late anyway, can't mess with my schedule, right? And I'm fine, so..." Harry shrugged. He gave another glance at Ron and went back to look at the site.

Ron remained silent for a few second. He didn't know if it was best to talk Harry into understanding what was wrong or flat out tell him.

He choose the second option.

"Are you feeling hypomanic right now?"

Harry looked back at Ron. He arched an eyebrow.

"What are you trying to say, Ron?"

"I think it's clear." Ron noticed the defensive position Harry had taken. What with his shoulders hunched and his legs ready to stand up and run.

"I told you I'm okay," said Harry. But his voice didn't sound so secure anymore.

"Then how do you explain this..." Ron waved at all the kitchen appliances and various other stuff. "This. Never seen you so interested in re-modelling before."

Harry stood up. His fists were clenched. It didn't look like he wanted to start a fight, more like he was standing his ground. "What? I decide not to waste the morning and do something useful instead and now its hypomania?" he spat at Ron. "I'm just trying to make the kitchen more comfortable to use, you should thank me and maybe even help. I'd help if I were in your shoes."

Harry probably caught on the expression of sympathy on Ron's face, because he turned his eyes from the other guy and started rummaging through the mess stored on the counters.

"Harry, it was you who told me that visual acquisition behaviour was a symptom. You told me what patterns I should take notice. Right there on the couch."

Harry didn't stop moving objects on the counter in front of him, avoiding looking at Ron. "Yeah, I remember. That doesn't mean that for every single thing I do, you have to analyse me like a fucking lab rat. I'm just doing something nice for the apartment."

Ron sighed. He wanted to get closer to Harry, but all the stuff scattered on the floor made it difficult. "I know and thanks, but I think you should really stop and think for a second here." Ron didn't know what a fucking soothing tone of voice was. He was trying, but even at his ears it sounded more annoying and paternalistic. And it was clear that Harry perceived it that way too.

"Think for a second?" he mockingly repeated. The redhead was once more collecting the shattered china in a small pile. "Why? I need some time to understand that I'm crazy? I know I'm fucking crazy, I don't need you to remind me that!" Harry shouted frustrate. He hit the counter with his fist as if to emphasize his words.

The sound of broken ceramics reverberated once again.

"Harry..." Ron murmured.

Harry looked down at his hand, which was hurting like hell. He noticed the shards of the white china being dirtied by the red of blood. Cautiously, Harry opened his still clenched fist and he felt the painful sting of the pieces stuck in his skin.

"Fuck!" he exclaimed, grabbing the wrist of the injured hand with the healthy one. "Fuck!"

Ron swiftly moved to help his roommate. He bumped into a pile of soup cans and packages of dried noodles to get closer to Harry. He grabbed a dishrag to gently wrap Harry's hand.

"Let's go to the bathroom," he said. Harry nodded, following him in front of the mirror above the sink.

Ron took out of the small cabinet behind the mirror a bottle of disinfectant, a roll of gauze, and tweezers. He looked at Harry's open hand and sighed. "Next time slam your fist harder, would you?"

Harry continued his silence. He kept looking down at his hand, flinching a bit when Ron poured the disinfectant on the cuts; biting his bottom lip when he saw the tweezers extract the last pieces. After Ron had tightly wrapped the gauze around his hand, Harry relaxed his shoulders.

"Sorry," he whispered, pulling out his clothed hand from Ron's. His roommate only shrugged.

"That's okay."

"No." Harry shook his head and looked him in the eyes. All Ron could see was resignation and defeat.

"No, it's not. I think I need to call my doctor."


	13. The arrangement

Harry didn't feel good. He had just taken his morning pills and now he felt nauseous and was wondering if he should just lock himself in the bathroom for a while. He massaged his belly. The doctor had boosted his usual dose of Lamictal and, as with any other medications; Harry hated to increase the dosage. Every time he had to swallow more milligrams of his meds, he felt disappointed and, once again, angry at his traitorous brain.

Harry would've preferred to stay in bed for another day, unfortunately he had already lost a few days of class and he couldn't really lose another one. Plus, there was a limit to the times he could decline Lyra's offer to come to his house to play nurse. He actually had one already. Ron had revealed himself to be a real Florence Nightingale. He would tend to his hand wounds, he'd take notice of his medication schedule, and even toast his fucking bread so as not to let Harry take his meds on an empty stomach. Harry was already fed up with him, he couldn't imagine having two concerned people rubbing his tummy and head to make the pain go away.

As if summoned, Ron appeared at Harry's bedroom door.

"Did you take your pills?"

Harry rolled his eyes.

"Yes ma'am." He put on his gloves, hiding the white bandage covering part of his hand. "Tell me you're not always gonna be so nagging, please."

Ron smiled a little, buttoning his coat. "Nah. These days have been enough."

His words seemed true, but Harry would've bet that Ron was not going to stop checking on him, albeit discreetly. It was okay, though. Harry was past the _'I don't need any help, thanks'_ phase. Still, sometimes it was too suffocating and he'd wish that he had kept his illness as a secret from everyone.

Speaking about keeping secrets. Lyra's calls had not only been about her worry for Harry, but also to ask her best friend about the night of the accident. Apparently her brother had told her that they had been both drunk and he himself had decided to drive, ending their adventure in a crash. She was mad at her brother, but also at Harry, who shouldn't have drunk so much and skipped his meds. Eventually, she was mad at herself too, because she hadn't stop Harry and instead had joined him in the drinking game. Harry hated for her to feel guilty, that was why he had agreed to meet Lyra at their usual coffee shop that morning and have a little chit chat with her.

"Hello, boyfriend!" Lyra greeted him in front of his building instead, as soon as Harry opened the front door to get outside.

"Lyra?" asked Harry in surprise. Behind him, Ron closed the door and bumped right against Harry's back.

"Harry, what the-" Ron looked behind Harry's back to see the reason why his roommate had stopped right in the middle of the exit. "Oh. Uhm. Didn't know you were expecting someone here."

"Me neither," replied Harry, but smiled at his best friend. "Right, guess now's a good time as any to make introductions." He patted Ron's shoulder, who had recomposed himself in a rigid pose. "Lyra, this is Ron, my roomie. Ron, this is Lyra, my beard slash bestie."

Harry tried to make the presentations as light as possible, since he knew how awkward Ron was at meeting new people. But he would've loved for his two closest friends in college to at least be comfortable in each other's presence.

As expected, Lyra smiled, extending her hand. "Hi."

And, also as expected, Ron took her hand in the worst possible way: after too many seconds and without gripping it with the right force but like a cold, lifeless thing. Luckily that pathetic scene lasted for just for a moment. Ron then nodded and went his way, accelerating his steps to soon disappear from their sight.

"Interesting human being, huh?" commented Lyra, hooking her arm in Harry's.

"Yes, that's my roommate! I swear once one gets to know him better he's totally fine."

"Sure. Not like my dumbass of a brother. You get to know him better, you just want to run," she joked. Before remembering what had just happened a few nights prior. "About that. More than a run, you to decide to go for a nice, slow ride."

Harry sighed. "I know, I'm so sorry..."

Lyra waved her hand. "Yeah, yeah, I know. It's okay. You're fine, Draco's fine, the car... well, the car is not, but hey. Draco broke it, so it's his problem. I just hope this had taught you a lesson: do not become one of Draco's stupid fan boys, all right?"

Harry smiled and nodded. At the same time he felt a burn down to his stomach that was not caused by his meds. It was just that simple thing called guilt. Lyra had told him that Draco had come home right after Harry had left and that all the charges had been dropped, but that didn't mean that Harry felt clean. He had ruined Draco's car and, on top of that, he hadn't taken the blame for it, Draco himself had. He had hoped the man would've told the truth at least to his sister. Better having Lyra slap his freckled face than having his friend now complaining about her big bro's bad influence. But no, it appeared Draco wanted to take the secret to his grave.

After having had a nice orange juice instead of the more desired cup of coffee, Harry opened the door of the coffee shop only to make an abrupt stop right in the middle of the exit. Lyra bumped against his back and Harry would've laughed that the same thing happened to him twice in not even an hour if the person he had stopped for wasn't the one he wanted to see and at the same time not see so much.

"Draco," he just said, focusing all his attention on the other guy.

Draco looked surprise to see him as well, and started brushing his bottom lip with his thumb.

"Ay, Potter," he somewhat greeted.

They were both standing silent, one in front of the other, looking in each other eyes.

"Yeah now that you've established you know each other's name, can you please move the fucking aside? You're in the middle of the fucking entrance, just so you know," Lyra said from behind Harry, almost completely obscured by the brunettes figure.

"Oh. Shit. Sorry Ly." Harry moved right away, freeing the still open door of his presence. Once Lyra was visible again, Draco's eyes drifted to his sister and Harry felt a bit disappointed for not being Draco's centre of the attention anymore.

Lyra put herself between the two of them, taking in the awkward behaviour they had going on around them. "Okay, I need to go now. But you two should talk about what happened. You drunkards," she said in a voice that didn't allow any refusal.

She patted Harry's forearm and she punched Draco's, who just grumbled a good bye and then she was gone, leaving the two men alone. And silent. Still.

"Wanna go inside?" Harry was the first to speak, nodding towards the entrance of the coffee shop.

Draco shrugged. "I just need to get a cup of coffee, then I have to go to class."

Harry looked visibly surprised. "So you actually go to class," he commented.

The blond-haired guy snorted. "Sometimes I have to, you know." He opened the door of the shop.

"I thought you only slept there." Harry followed Draco inside, waiting for him to get his coffee.

"That too." Draco smiled and Harry couldn't help himself. He had to smile too. Draco curling up the side of his mouth was just an amazing sight as when he'd bite his bottom lip or point his tongue against the corner of his mouth. Now that Harry was thinking about it, he was probably obsessed with Draco's mouth. And eyes. And expressive eyebrows. Oh, and ass. The ass was probably sharing first place with his mouth in Harry's top three.

"Yeah, but it's still early, you must like the subject."

Harry noticed Draco went still for a second or two and hated himself for the further inquiry. Maybe he didn't like to talk about his courses, or maybe he just didn't want to answer Harry's questions. Or maybe, even worse, he didn't want to talk to Harry at all.

"It's, uhm, calculus," Draco replied. Harry sighed of relief. Now was certainly the time to just shut up and be happy that Draco had answered him.

"Calculus? What for?"

Of course Harry couldn't just shut his trap.

Draco bit his bottom lip. He didn't look comfortable. "It's not part of my major. Just, you know, to get credits. Didn't want to take feminists studies or some shit," he muttered. "Plus it's always good to know how to count my poker winnings, you know."

This time Harry decided to let the subject drop. "Okay, cool."

Now they were outside, not talking. Draco with his cup of coffee, Harry with his hands in the coat pockets. Chilly air around them and people bumping against them because they were once again blocking the entrance.

Harry knew it was time to talk, really talk. And he was sure Draco knew it too. They hadn't exchanged a single text after the night at the Ministry. Harry had wanted to send him at least a short one to apologize, but the first day he had other things to think about, like going to a not planned appointment with his psychiatrist. Then he had felt sick. After, Harry had just come to the conclusion that saying _"Sorry for your Viper and for getting you arrested"_ two days after the fact was quite useless and a little obnoxious on his part. There had also been the fact that Draco hadn't text him either, making Harry come up with the only possible conclusion. Draco was very angry with him.

So Harry had thought that talking face-to-face was the best solution. But now, in front of an unreadable Draco, Harry was starting to regret his decision and wanted to run away, sending him an apology via text after having put no less than a mile of distance between them.

Draco started walking and Harry didn't know if Draco wanted him to follow behind. Maybe Draco had decided to end whatever they had going on between them. Harry couldn't blame him, he wasn't sure his dick was worth all the trouble caused by the accident.

"Comin' or what?" Draco asked, arching an eyebrow. Harry beamed. Fuck, why did he have to show how stupidly happy he was for that single question?

Harry went near Draco, following him inside one of the hallways of the university. The heat became suffocating and Harry began to undress, taking off coat and gloves. The sight of the injured hand caught Draco's attention and waved at it with his coffee.

"That from the crash? Don't remember."

Harry moved his hand to show him the band-aid and some scratches on the skin around it. "No. The, huh, morning after I cut myself with a broken plate."

"Pretty clumsy, Potter," commented. Draco then grabbed his wrist to see the hand up close and Harry felt a shiver running through his spine. It was so stupid to feel that way only after such a simple touch, but he wasn't used to simple touches from Draco. Usually Draco touched him because of a fight, for sex or a promise of sex, whereas right now the other guy just seemed concerned _._ _Be still my heart._

"Yeah..." Harry was seriously tempted to continue talking about how much of a klutz he was but he knew they had to talk about what had happened. And it was best sooner rather than later. "Draco, I'm so sorry about the other night." He blurted out. Harry was already suffocating due to the heat in the building, he didn't need to experiment an internal combustion because he was keeping all the words he wanted to say inside. Much like a pressure cooker, he felt all the steam he had been accumulating starting to evaporate. It was time to address the elephant in the room. Or in the hallway. Whatever.

Draco nodded. "Yeah, you bet your ass you're sorry." He took the last sip out of his coffee, leaving the empty cup on an unoccupied bench. "I came back at 10 am to find my bedroom so cold I was surprised there wasn't a fucking polar bear on my bed, because some asstwat had opened the window to _'air the room'_ and of fucking course Lyra couldn't be bothered to close it before going to the kitchen."

Draco looked seriously pissed off, to the point that Harry didn't know if Draco was actually angrier because of a cold room rather than an arrest for drunk driving. Oh, and a broken car.

"Better cold than the smell of puke," Harry decided to cautiously reply.

Draco snorted. "Yeah, when one's a heater like yourself." He still hadn't take off his coat. "But, if you want to apologize for destroying my car and for my arrest, then you already did it when we were at the Ministry."

"Yeah, but-"

Draco stopped on his track. "Look. You were drunk, but I was too. I shouldn't have let you get inside my car, but I did. And you don't have a driver license, so..." He shrugged. "Plus, they let me go without any charges, it was just a drag waiting at the station for hours."

Harry nodded, but he wasn't convinced. Draco must had noticed that, because he added "You know that Lyra would've killed me if I'd let you get in trouble. Especially when I wasn't going to get in any."

That perked Harry's curiosity. "Because of the 'help'?"

Draco huffed. "Yep. AKA my uncle Rodolphus and his diligent intern, my brother Cygnus. My uncle owns a law firm here, in LA and back in Chicago. Let's just say nobody at the Ministry wants to get on his nerves."

"Well, uhm. That's good then," commented Harry. He received a sigh from Draco in response.

"Yeah. My family has connections everywhere it counts. Malfoy's don't go to prison. We kinda have an unspoken immunity," he said. It sounded nice to always be able to get away with it, but Draco's tone of voice didn't sound smug about that. He was just stating the fact, without any happiness behind it. Fuck, if Harry didn't know any better, it almost looked like Draco thought about his immunity more as a curse than a blessing.

"I'd feel like shit if you had gotten charged, you know..." muttered Harry.

"Oh, don't you worry. You can still feel like shit. My uncle paid for the broken fence, but the costs for my Viper's repair are entirely on me. Uncle only promised not to say anything to Pops. He'd get so fucking mad if he knew."

Yes, he was feeling like shit. Harry hadn't thought about Draco's dad before. He didn't want Draco to have problems with his father because of him. "How much?"

"To get my baby fixed? Around 30k, more or less. Got enough money to cover it."

"Can I help?"

"How much do you have?"

"Huh. Right now, one-two thousand? I'll have to ask my family since we share all the money..." The tradition of the squirrel fund, the old can they would work so hard to fill to cover the expenses for the winter, was still alive amongst the Potter family. The only difference was that they weren't using a can anymore, but the bank plus the zeroes in the fund had more than doubled. Basically, a squirrel fund luxury edition.

"Yeah, thanks for the offer, but I can take care of her just fine." Draco waited a few seconds, before adding. "Still..."

Harry was quick to catch on. "Still?"

"Still, if you really feel so bad about it, you can always repay me with your body. Not contrary to that."

Harry couldn't escape a smile from shaping on his lips. "Thought you were already getting that for free."

"Thought so too, but then the other night instead of wrecking me, you wreaked my car." Draco moved his index finger left and right. "Not cool, Potter."

Harry felt his cheeks burning. "Oh, huh, sorry about that."

"Yeah I know, you're all apology today." Draco stopped in front of a wooden door. He turned to look Harry in the eyes. "So, as a repayment, you're gonna be on call. When I feel like it, you come. Doesn't matter where you are or what you're doing or with _whom_ you are."

Harry eyes widened. It wasn't the 'repayment' per se that had shocked him. It was that Harry was already basically on call. If Draco wanted to, he was always ready. Didn't matter where he was, what he was doing or who he was with. The initial confusion disappeared to make place to something much warmer in his chest. The fact that Draco wanted to state their implicit arrangement in words had to mean something. Okay, it was still a fuck buddy relationship, but Harry could dare to think Draco wanted for Harry to be exclusive? It didn't escape him that Draco's voice had particularly stressed on the word 'who'. And he and Draco would meet quite frequently already, so... maybe... Draco wasn't seeing anyone else too?

"Sure, I'll be your personal call girl." Harry hadn't intended to smile, but he couldn't help a lopsided grin forming on his face.

Surprisingly, Draco smiled too, although his smirk ended with his tongue against the corner of the mouth. A sign that Harry was going to be called out very soon.

"Have to go to class now." Draco nodded to the door. "But I expect my personal call girl to be without pants in the closet in an hour."

Harry laughed. "Yes sir."


	14. Pansy Parkinson

In a semi deserted corridor, there is the door to an unused janitor's closet. That is, unused for the janitor. Because the closet was daily exploited for far more amusing activities than looking for a mop.

"Mhm, yeah, just get on me," Draco ordered in a moan.

"So bossy," Harry replied, but carried out his duty nevertheless, eliciting another, deep moan from the guy in front of him. He could feel Draco relaxing to allow Harry to get further into him.

"Because you're so fucking slow. You use my hole enough, you don't need to spend a fucking eternity shoving fingers up my ass."

Harry chuckled against Draco's back. "As if you don't like it."

Draco was ready to reply, but Harry pressed inside him, bottoming out. He clenched around his cock and Harry let him adjust for a few moments.

"Now shut the fuck up and just take it," the brunet said. Draco didn't snarl back, he grunted and pushed his hips back, meeting the powerful first thrust. Harry smiled, started pistoning into him. It was something he noticed: Draco liked to play tough, but while having sex he just loved to give Harry control, every day a little more and Harry relished in that, only wanting Draco to feel good.

Harry advanced more, basically entrapping Draco between the wall and himself, eliciting a moan from the other guy. The brunet put one forearm against his back, while tightly gripping Draco's hips with the other. He knew exactly where to put his hands on Draco's hips, since the bruises caused by his hands the days prior were still there, never fading because they were always renewed.

Harry wanted to go slow, but he knew it was something that Draco still hadn't conceded to. Much like having sex with their faces close to each other. Pretty much everything that could be considered as intimate.

Yet, Draco was conceding something. It was not just to let Harry take control and him be there to take it, it was some sort of bond, like the fact that Draco liked Harry pressed against him. Draco wanted him so close that he urged Harry by pulling his hair or reaching down to Harry's ass and pressing against it. And Harry couldn't be happier when Draco's hand just rested there, like in that moment. He caressed Draco's arm, a stark contrast with the way he was slamming against him. But fuck if Draco's tightness wasn't amazing.

From his arm, Harry's hand moved to Draco's chest, resting there, pushing Draco even closer to him. He could feel the sweat on his nape and decided to lick it away in a long stripe that ended behind his ear. He felt Draco's breath became shakier and he hazarded to give him an open mouthed kiss there.

"Mhm..." Draco almost whimpered at that and Harry took it as an invitation to continue. His lips moved from behind the other guy's ear to his neck, leaving a trail of kisses behind, sometimes accompanied by teeth, sometimes by the tongue. He slowed he slowed his relentless rhythm a little to concentrate more of his attention on feeling Draco shiver under his mouth. Draco moved his neck to give him more freedom and Harry took advantage of that, taking the time to suck on his skin and leaving a hickey that would last for days. Draco fucking whimpered and Harry reached a level of confidence that gave him the courage to kiss him on the jaw. Draco stilled for a second, before once more following Harry's pushes. Harry left another wet kiss there. Fuck, he was feeling ready to come just from that and it appeared Draco was too from the way he began stroking his own shaft. Harry moved the hand he had on Draco's hips to help down there, because Harry was a true gentleman like that.

"Shit," Draco murmured, letting Harry dictate the rhythm, which was getting as frantic as the thrusts. "Gonna come..."

Harry was too and he kept stroking Draco faster, pistoning into him erratically now. He felt Draco clenching around him and then coming against the wall and his hand. He followed soon after, releasing himself in the condom.

They stilled, Draco letting Harry be a weight against his back. Harry wanted so much to pepper his neck with kisses, but he knew that the moment was gone and Draco would get homicidal. So he sighed, pulling out from Draco and standing up in an erect position. He removed the condom, tying it. He would dispose of it later. Harry didn't think it was wise to leave all the used condoms in the closet.

Draco pulled on his boxer and jeans, turning around to lean against the wall with his back. Harry felt his stare while he too started to dress. He decided to make a little show, moving much slower than the usual. Then grinned at Draco, who rolled his eyes.

"Your dick should be the last thing you cover, you know," commented Draco. He retrieved a smoke from the packet in his pockets and lit it up, giving it a drag.

"I'll remember for next time." Harry was still smiling while fastening his belt.

Draco didn't even try to be smug about the reply, they both knew there was gonna be a next time.

"Yeah, you better." Draco passed the cigarette to Harry.

"So..." Harry inhaled the smoke. "You gonna dress or something for tonight?"

Draco arched both his eyebrow. He was really shocked. "Whatcha think?"

"But it's Mardi Gras, Mick. You have to."

Draco snorted. "It's not. They got the date wrong, we're like two weeks late."

"Doesn't mean I won't wear my pink feather boa. It makes my eyes stand out."

Draco looked at Harry with apprehension, until he saw Harry grinning like an idiot. He shoved the brunet right in the shoulder.

One of Draco's frat brothers had decided to celebrate Mardi Gras. He had gotten the date wrong, using as an excuse the fact that it wasn't his fault that they change the date every year. It didn't matter that much, anyway, since it was just another opportunity to have a party.

Lyra had decided to take it seriously, however. She had dragged Harry to a costume shop. Harry had had to stand his ground and refused to wear anything weird but a fake glittery golden tie. Lyra had had to forget her plan to make Harry wear nothing but the tie accompanied by golden booty shorts like it was showed on the picture stamped on the package 'the go-go boy'. She had chosen for her a package containing a black corset, a puffy purple skirt with black lace, a black top hat and black forearm gloves. _'Mistress of Mardi Gras'_ was written on it and she had thought it was appropriate for the party.

Now they were at Lyra's dorm, dressing up before going to the Sigma Alpha Epsilon house. Harry was really feeling like the perfect gay best friend every girl wants since he was in the middle of crushing Lyra's intestines by pulling the corset strings with force.

"Oh! Yes, Harry. Just like that!" Lyra exclaimed, faking a moan when Harry pulled the strings at her waistline with particular strength. Her chuckle was suffocated by Harry knotting the strings too tight.

"Oops, sorry," deadpanned Harry, releasing the knot enough for her to be able to breathe again. She proceeded to elbow him in the gut the moment later.

While Lyra was putting on some make-up, Harry sat on her bed. He watched her put the mascara on, with the open mouth expression every girl seemed to take when doing so. He fidgeted with his golden tie, before clearing his throat and asked, with the most nonchalance he could master,

"So, huh. How do you know when a guy's interested in you?" He noticed Lyra now staring at him from the mirror reflex. "I mean, if he cares about you, like, not just wanting to fuck you. If a guy likes you for real."

He had just finished talking, when Lyra jumped on him, still in only stockings and corset.

"OH MY GOD! HARRY! Who is he?!"

Harry laid on his back, avoiding eye contact.

 _Your brother_ "Just a guy I've been seeing..." he said.

"Just a guy, huh?" Lyra gave him a knowing look. "Do you like him?"

Harry did like him. Harry was mesmerized by him. Fuck, he thought Draco was cute even when he belched. And now there was also the fact that Draco had lied for him, had take the blame for him. Even though Draco had told him that he hadn't wanted Lyra to get upset and he had known he wouldn't have been charged, Harry was sure that it was something more. That Draco cared for him. But he needed to know for sure, he didn't want to build castles in the air.

"Uh-huh," Harry only said. But Lyra grinned.

"You like him a lot." She was sitting on his abdomen, successfully pinning him down. Apparently, she wanted some answers. "So, who's he?"

Harry rolled his eyes. Lyra wasn't giving up.

"He's, huh," _Your brother, your goddamn brother_ "he's pretty deep in the closet. So I can't give you his name, sorry." _Draco fucking Malfoy!_

Lyra huffed. "Can't you at least describe him?"

"Yeah, right. So you can go ask every guy matching the description if they're gay or not."

Lyra's eyes closed a little, all of her focus on Harry's face. "Do I know him?"

 _YES!_ "Nah, I mean, don't think so. Maybe you've seen him around campus."

"So he's a student here." Lyra was playing Sherlock Holmes now, and Harry was actually glad that Lyra was quite an awful detective, because Harry wasn't such a good liar, especially under pressure.

"Or a professor, a janitor, the guy at the coffee shop, the cook..." Harry started to list with his fingers. Lyra gave him a slap on his hand.

"I get the point, yeah." She got up, sitting next to him on her knee. She seemed to have troubles to simply sit on her ass with the corset. Maybe it was too tight. "So you're not gonna tell me?"

Harry shook his head. He so wanted to tell her the truth. But he couldn't do that to Draco. Even if it meant lying to his best friend. "Sorry, Ly. I promise I'll tell you when he's ready to come out."

"Hope his ass is worth it."

Harry smiled. "Oh, he has a nice ass, alright."

Lyra laughed, turning serious a few moments later. Problems of the heart were always a serious matter to her. "So, you were asking about how to understand if they really like you, right?"

Harry nodded. He was glad she had dropped the subject and went on with what he really wanted to know.

She assumed a thoughtful expression. "As far as I know, the best solution is to just ask."

Harry snorted. "Yeah, cause that would help. He'd just run away. After killing me of course."

"You guys are so constipated when it comes to feelings and yours really seems to be a coward."

"Tell me about it. So how do I know?"

Lyra smiled. "Does he get that look in his eyes when he's with you?"

"What look?"

"You'll know when you see it."

Harry paused "Yeah. You're not the fucking oracle, Ly. Just explain, will ya?"

Lyra got up, going back to the mirror to finish her makeup. She still had one eye without mascara on. "It's... You know, I can't really explain. It's when you know. They look at you and you can see yourself in their eyes, because they're looking at you. Only _you._ It's... Oh, I don't know, Harry. I think you just have to sort it out by yourself. Now get your ass up here and loosen this fucking corset a bit, I think I'm going to faint."

The theme was Mardi Gras, but the only decorations that could pass for thematic (and really, the only decorations at all) were colourful banners probably leftovers from some other previous party. On a table close to the entrance, there was a bowl overflowing with small trumpets, these probably part of some batch from New Year's Eve. Basically, everything there had been reused. Only the kegs were brand new.

Lyra grabbed two trumpets, one for her, the other for Harry and they strolled around the room in search for some familiar faces. Some of the other guests didn't bother to dress for the occasion, others seemed to have taken it seriously and they were wearing costumes. The majority of the guys had only put on some props like Harry: masks, strange hats and the likes. Girls, however, had put more effort into dressing like multicoloured sluts. Lyra was actually the most clothed around them since her skirt reached just above her knees.

She smiled at her best friend. "First time I feel like a nun, it's kinda refreshing."

"Yeah, Ly. I think a corset that squeezes your boobs out like yours is definitely part of a nun's outfit," replied Harry. Lyra only resolved to stick out her tongue at the brunet.

They got closer to the keg and Harry gestured to a guy to pass him a cup (very colourful cups, another hint of Mardi Gras atmosphere), when Lyra put a hand on top of his.

"Hey you sure about this? This is gonna be your first and only beer tonight."

Harry sighed and looked at her, annoyed. After Harry had told her that on top of getting drunk and having an incident, the morning after he had had a hypomanic episode. Lyra had started watching Harry's drinking habits like a hawk. When they went out for a drink, Lyra would always make sure Harry would only take one slightly alcoholic drink and then she'd observe him to make sure he was okay. Harry was pissed at her, but he understood Lyra was behaving that way because she cared about him. She had gotten pretty scared when he had told her the reason behind his injured hand and now, even if she was a little oppressive for the moment, he could get behind that because it was her way of showing how much she cared for him.

"Well then, let's fill the cup to the brim," said Harry, filling up his cup literally to the brim, forcing him to put his mouth on it to sip it a little before letting the beer to spill all over. "And you get only one too, by the way," he told Lyra, who cringed at that.

"Yeah, I know. I'm not the same heavyweight I was once. Draco told me I'm a disgrace to the Malfoy's." She chuckled.

With their cups filled with beer, the two of them walked around until they spotted Draco, who was sitting on the kitchen counter lazily smoking a blunt. He was talking to a few guys who were listening to him as if he were Jesus reborn and Harry felt his heart skip a beat. Draco was dressed completely in black, just a t-shirt and pair of jeans, but both garments were a little tighter on his body than usual. Harry was used to seeing Draco in baggy jeans and loose shirt, with the only exception being that night at the rowing club soiree. Harry could almost see the shape of his Pecs with that black shirt now. And he was willing to bet that Draco's ass would look so good wrapped up in those tight jeans. If only Draco would get up from the counter. Not that Harry wouldn't know what to do with a Draco on a counter. With spread legs. All around Harry.

But maybe Draco wouldn't appreciate doing the nasty with Harry in front of his loyal pawns, so yeah. Harry had to erase the thought from his dirty mind.

He and Lyra approached the object of the brunet's desires, who, as they noticed once they got closer, was wearing a black mask, draped on his head like a pair of sunglasses.

"Wow Mick, you really went overboard with the costume," said Lyra sarcastically.

Draco turned around to look at them, smiling. That smile was a strike to Harry's heart. Harry felt like such a dork to think that Draco was so pretty when he smiled. No, actually. When he smiled at _him._ And Lyra. But Harry liked to think the smile was mostly for him. It made Harry more confident to finally start what he had begun to define in his mind the _'find the look in his eyes'_ game.

"Yeah, like your boyfriend here put in that much more effort," Draco said, extending his hand to pull Harry's golden tie a little. The second later it appeared Draco had come to his senses and abruptly let go of the tie, like it was burning or something. He bit his bottom lip, looking nervously at his bros there, who were oblivious to what Draco had probably felt like a public declaration of gayness.

Harry decided to be happy that, at least on an unconscious level, Draco couldn't exempt himself from touching him.

"I know, Harry is not big on costumes either," pouted Lyra. Then snatched the blunt from Draco's hand.

"Not big on drinking, too," commented Draco nodding towards Harry's cup. "You're banned from participating at any drinking games at this fraternity, Potter."

Harry growled. "What the fuck, both Malfoy's are against me having fun tonight," he said, but without any real bitterness in his tone.

"Nah, have all the fun you want. Even without drinking, getting high or getting chicks. I'm gonna kill you if you cheat on my skank of a sister," Draco said, earning a punch on his arm by Lyra. Harry instead felt like gloating, having transformed in his mind the last sentence in a death threat to if Harry cheated on Draco himself. He liked his guys possessive.

He must have looked at Draco too intently, maybe smiling too, because the other guy snapped.

"The fuck are you looking at?"

Harry immediately diverted his eyes. "Sorry, I zoned out," he said, causing an interrogative look from both Malfoy's.

Draco got up. "Yeah, definitely best you don't get high, you're weird, man." And he made a beeline to the keg. Just as Harry thought. His ass was perfectly wrapped in those jeans. Harry so planned to get Draco upstairs later.

Harry and Lyra found some other people to talk to and they ended up having fun even without drinking. But Harry sometimes continued to 'zone out' or, more accurately, he continued to play _'find the look in his eyes'_. Harry's own would follow Draco moving around. Drinking, smoking, talking with someone and he felt kind of stalker-ish, but also allowed himself to, because it was actually a very important matter to him. And also because Draco sometimes glanced back for a second, making Harry feel warm all over.

Once Harry was so focused on Draco, that he must had poked Draco with his intensity, because the guy turned to meet his stare. The shorter guy arched up his eyebrows, looking at Harry with an expression that perfectly conveyed Draco's previous sentence.

 _The fuck are you looking at?_

Harry quickly lowered his gaze, wondering the same thing. He didn't know what _'the look in his eyes'_ meant, but Lyra had told him he'd known when it would happen, so he only had to put up with it and try to find that look. One day.

But possibly that night.

He noticed that Lyra had been looking at him in turn when she spoke. "Hey, everything alright? I'm starting to think you're actually astigmatic."

Harry huffed a breath, but shook his head. "Nah, just tired." He justified himself.

After a while they found themselves engaged in a conversation with Lance, Harry's team member, and a couple of other guys. They were mainly talking about some professors they shared or had shared in the past years and they discovered that Lance was pretty good at making their impressions.

They were having fun, laughing, when Lance shook his head. He was looking behind Harry's and commented "Oh, man. What's up with Draco and sluts?"

Immediately, both Harry and Lyra turned round to see what was going on. What Harry saw was a strong pang to his chest.

Draco was sitting on one of the couches. A beer on one hand and a half-naked girl on his lap. Other frat boys were around them, sipping from their own beer. One of them was asking the girl if she knew any Mardi Gras sex position and she only shrugged, telling them that if she did, it would be Draco to learn them from her, not him. The guy cried her name in feigned frustration and Harry heard her name. Pansy.

"Pansy Parkinson?" said Lyra. "Don't even get me started, Lance. He only goes for easy ones. Still don't know if he likes them because he's afraid of commitment or the sex is better." She shrugged, laughing at some joke Lance made. But Harry wasn't paying attention anymore.

He was totally focused on the scene. He too knew Pansy Parkinson. How could he not? Seamus was a gossip girl and the biggest skank of the college couldn't go unnoticed. Pansy was part of a sorority, a skinny bulimic bitch who never turned a guy down. Frankly, Harry didn't know if it was because she had low self esteem or she was a nympho, but it didn't matter. What mattered was the fact that the skank had one arm around Draco's shoulders and with the other hand she was touching his Pecs. The Pecs that were so beautifully shaped under that tight shirt. Harry could feel green jealousy mounting in him. He just wanted to get out, move his fucking feet and run from that sight, but there he was, still staring at Draco.

Draco was laughing with her. Fucking laughing. She let him put an arm around her tiny waist. Harry's eyes were glued to them.

Then Draco turned his head. His blue eyes met Harry's. Draco immediately let go of her waist and looked at Harry with wide eyes. He seemed like a kid caught by his parents eating forbidden sweets. He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, but he closed it the second after. His eyes detached themselves from Harry's and he focused again on Pansy by putting the arm around her waist once again.

Harry forced himself to deflect his attention as well, trying to listen to Lyra's conversation.

"So yeah, he was with this girl and Ara caught them and they discovered that Ara was doing her too..."

No, he needed to tune out of that too.

"I-I need to go piss." That was the only excuse he could come up with. Truth was, he only wanted to get himself another beer. Or just fucking running back to his apartment.

Lyra seemed to notice his change of mood, however, and excused herself to accompany Harry.

"What's up, Harry?" she asked, concerned.

"Fucking chill. I'm not having an episode," Harry snapped. He only wanted to vent on someone about what he had just seen. He soon collected himself, especially after seeing the hurt on Lyra's face. He shook his head. "Sorry, Ly, I'm just tired I guess."

Lyra nodded and actually escorted him to the bathroom. "Maybe you don't actually need to pee but I do." She went straight to the toilet and pulled her stockings down.

"Ew, Lyra, I get that I'm gay and all but I don't really need to see you peeing," said Harry with a grimace, after he heard the sound.

She snorted. "No, you're my BFF so it's okay if we go pee together."

"Yeah, sure. That's just an excuse to see my dick." Harry moved to let her wash her hands.

"I guess that's part of the deal. I need to know what the female gender is losing, you know." She shrugged and pulled her lipstick, blush and eyeliner from her purse. While she was putting some more eyeliner on her eyelids, she smirked. "Actually, my dear BFF..."

When Harry went out from the bathroom, he had black eyeliner around his eyes. He felt like a fucking panda.

"See? You look so damn sexy!" Lyra exclaimed, satisfied by her handiwork.

Harry rolled his painted eyes. He had only let her play make-up artist with him because it was a costume party and everybody else was already drunk. After bantering with her he had actually felt better and the urge to run away had disappeared. But he still needed a little time alone.

"Going to get some fresh air," he said. "Really, Ly, I'm fine," Harry added, before Lyra could say anything. She nodded and left to look for Lance and the other guys.

Finally alone, Harry sighed. He headed for the veranda, maybe to have a smoke there. Close to the door he walked into Draco who smirked at him like Harry hadn't caught him with Pansy before.

"Ay, Potter. You behaved with alcohol tonight? My car is still at the mechanic, can't lend you another one to crash," Draco told him. There was no hatred behind his words, but Harry still felt like shit for the reminder.

"I just had that cup of beer," Harry replied, diverting his eyes from Draco's. He didn't know how to behave with Draco. Should he say that he didn't like him with that girl? Or he was not supposed to? But Draco _had_ looked guilty when he had been seen by Harry with Pansy.

When he decided to meet his eyes, he found that Draco was staring at him intently. Like he was trying to decipher God knows what on Harry's face. The brunet felt the beat of his heart to increase. Was that the look in his eyes?

"What the fuck do you have on your eyes? Is that fucking make-up?"

Harry was brought back to reality by that comment. Of course it was not _that_ look. "Lyra's fault."

Draco sneered. "You're such a pussy with my sister. One day you'll find yourself peeing in the same bathroom."

Harry decided not to comment on that.

They both stared at each other, fidgeting a little. When Draco heard some voices calling him, he seemed visibly relieved.

"Well, gotta go, Potter."

But Harry didn't want him to go. He was jealous as fuck. He didn't want Draco to go back to Pansy or anyone else for that matter.

He grabbed Draco's arm the moment the other guy decided to move towards his friends. Draco looked at him with wide eyes.

"Do you wanna go upstairs?" Harry asked suddenly. "I can fuck you just how you like it."

He had caught Draco off guard and the guy stilled for a second. His blue eyes flicked towards the stairs, but then he heard his friends calling him again. He snatched back his arm from Harry's grip.

"Nah, thanks man. Not tonight," Draco said with a light tone. He nodded towards his friends and left Harry there, without looking back.

Harry clenched his fists. He wanted to follow him and make Draco pay attention to him. He wanted Draco to smile at him and be comfortable around him, even with people around them.

Harry sighed, closing his eyes for a moment.

 _One two three four..._

He breathed out. One, two times before he could feel himself calming down.

He went to look for Lyra and he found her staring intently at the keg, probably wondering if she should get another cup or not.

"Ly, hey. I'm going home, I'm really tired."

Lyra looked surprised, but nodded. "Coming with you. If you leave me alone I could get drunk again."

They went to get their coats.

It was when Harry was putting his scarf on that he saw it.

Draco was by the stairs. He was with Pansy, who wore his black mask. She was clearly drunk and horny, kissing Draco on the neck, nipping at his skin; her hand fixed on his thigh, partly for malice, partly to steadying herself.

Harry couldn't move anymore, staring at the scene. Their eyes crossed each other's. Until Draco diverted his owns. He scooped Pansy in his arms like a princess, causing her to squeal in delight.

Harry looked at Draco's back until he disappeared upstairs.

He didn't wait for Lyra before rushing outside.


	15. Everyone fucks Pansy You don't?

He knew he was 'on call' with Draco. At least about that, they had agreed on. But Harry really couldn't do it. He found himself too angry, too bitter, too fucking jealous to just keep seeing Draco and have casual sex. It had never been casual for Harry.

 **[3:45 PM]Draco: Be there in an hour**

 **[5:00 PM]Draco: where the fuck r u?**

 **[11:07 AM]Draco: half an hour. Better be there Potter**

 **[12:05 AM]Draco: fuck u**

 **[10:34 AM]Draco: u sick or something?**

 **[4:17 PM]Draco: I know ur not sick**

 **[5:20 PM]Draco: the fuck had crawled up ur ass?**

 **[6:31 PM]Draco: thought we had an agreement**

 **[1:22 AM]Draco: Fuckhead Im not gonna keep texting you like some bitch**

Harry read the last text and flipped his phone around, not before lowering the volume to zero. He rolled on one side, giving his back to the phone. He covered himself to his chin with the blanket.

Yeah, well. _Fuck you!_

That was what Harry was thinking at the time.

Since Mardi Gras Harry had refused to talk to Draco. It had been pretty easy. They didn't have any lessons in common, what they had was the janitor's closet. If Harry didn't go there, the chances of running into Draco were minimal. The messages were a completely different thing though. At first, Harry had wanted to forgive and forget. They had never discussed being exclusive and Draco had never said he didn't fuck girls too. But then anger had won over Harry's desire to continue a relationship that was clearly not going anywhere. So he had resorted not to meet with Draco anymore. He knew he was 'on call' with Draco. At least about that, they had agreed on. But Harry really couldn't do it. He found himself too angry, too bitter, too fucking jealous to just keep seeing Draco and having casual sex. It had never been casual for Harry. And he had really hoped it was going to be something more for Draco too.

Boy, had he been wrong all along.

Fucking Pansy. Harry was so irrationally pissed at her. He couldn't even bring himself to reply to any of Draco's text for fear the first thing he'd mention would be Pansy. And he would lose Draco forever.

Fuck. Did he want Draco or not?

Harry didn't know for sure anymore. What was certain was that Harry couldn't continue chasing Draco without the hope that one day Draco would reciprocate his feeling. What were Harry's feelings, then, he was still confused.

Harry turned back. He looked another time at Draco's latest texts.

He sighed and with a soft "Fuck you, Draco" on his lips, he tried to get himself to sleep.

As stated, it really was easy to avoid Draco on campus. That was, as long as Draco himself wasn't looking for Harry.

It happened three days after the last text from Draco. Harry found himself face to face with the light haired guy, who was looking at him with a menacing glare. Harry was shocked at first, but then decided to keep his head straight and school his face in an unreadable expression. He wasn't really that good at it, but at least he didn't look scared or hopeful.

"Pots," greeted Draco.

Harry only nodded.

Draco scratched his nose. "Ok, what's up with you?" he blurted out. It appeared he didn't want to beat around the bush. But what could Harry say? _I'm jealous?_

"Whatcha think?" Harry replied with a question instead.

Draco didn't seem pleased. "I think if I knew I wouldn't be standing here asking you that. I just know that we have an agreement, you and I. You broke my car and now we fuck whenever I want."

"Yeah, you really like easy fucks, right?" commented Harry in a whisper.

"What's that, Mumbles?"

"Nothing," Harry said bitterly

"Yeah, well then I don't see why we can't fuck. You impotent or something now?"

Harry snorted. The problem was not an erectile dysfunction. The problem was that Harry was angry and jealous and Draco didn't seem to notice. Draco wasn't mentioning Pansy or when he had refused Harry's proposition. 'Sorry' was not a word in Draco's vocabulary.

Harry was almost tempted to turn on his heels and get as far away as he could from the guy. It seemed like it had been all for nothing. Draco hadn't come up with that 'call girl' deal because he wanted Harry around more often, it was really just something convenient for him. Nothing more.

"So you wanna fuck right? Let's fuck, then." Harry snapped, instead. If that was the only thing Draco wanted from him, he would've given it to Draco. It was for his own pleasure too. One last time, then Harry really had to stop this relationship or whatever it was. They couldn't only have sex at Draco's will.

It appeared Harry's reply had surprised Draco, because his eyebrows shot to the hairline. But he soon seemed to recompose himself. "Yeah, let's go fuck, fucking finally."

As soon as they entered the closet they started tearing each other's clothes apart. Harry had wanted to take it slow, to imprint it to memory, but he was too angry at Draco to take his time, and Draco seemed particularly horny.

Draco didn't even say anything when Harry bit his neck before taking off his shirt. He only moaned, getting back to pull Harry's fly down.

"Now you're so eager, huh? You weren't when I wanted to fuck you at the party." Harry really couldn't refrain to stay silent.

Draco didn't even seem to listen, he appeared very interested in pulling Harry's pants down.

"Did you really fuck Pansy?" Harry knew he shouldn't have asked that. Not when he wasn't ready to receive an answer. He only wanted to hang on to the hope that Draco maybe had just put on a show for the others. He regretted those words as soon as they escaped his mouth.

"Yeah, I fucked Pansy." Draco looked at Harry in disbelief. "Everybody fucks Pansy. You don't fuck Pansy?"

Harry couldn't believe his ears. "No. I'm gay." _And so are you_.

Draco opened his mouth to say something, but instead he decided to use it to blow Harry. He got on his knees and didn't waste any time teasing. He went straight ( _what a pun_ ) to take Harry's cock in his mouth, readily bobbing his head up and down Harry's inches. Harry wanted to stop Draco, continue talking instead, but the flesh is weak. Also horny. Harry didn't really know what he wanted anymore. Talk to Draco, fuck Draco, making Draco beg and say 'I'm sorry', convince Draco that there was more to it. He desired all of them, but he could only concentrate on the feeling of Draco's warm mouth, that tight wetness around his cock. Draco was so fucking good at giving head and he was putting quite the effort in this occasion. Harry could feel Draco's throat brushing against his tip, over and over again. He was so overwhelmed by the sensations, that he had to pull Draco away, pulling at his hair.

Draco smirked, the bastard. "See Pots? There was no reason to stop being on call," he said.

Harry didn't retort. He knew exactly what the reason was and he actually should stop right there and then and get the fuck out. Draco didn't seem even slightly guilty for what had happened that night. Even now he sported a cocky grin, as if he knew things were going his way. As always. Harry should've just told him he didn't want to waste any more time with him, because Draco was a dead end.

Fact was, Harry had never thought of Draco as a dead end. He had never really believed he had wasted time on him. He loved spending time with the other guy. And if this was the last time he let himself be with Draco, he wanted to have it.

No words escaped from Harry's mouth, but he turned Draco around and pressed him against the wall. His cock was leaking with precum and Draco's was no better. Harry hastily fumbled with his jeans pockets to find lube and a condom. He slicked his fingers with the lube, not really taking any time before inserting the first finger. He sighed and he heard Draco moan. Draco was fucking tight and Harry felt the pressure against the fingers once he inserted a second one, and then a third. With the other hand Harry kept roaming over Draco's skin, from his biceps, to his Pecs, down to the abdomen. The brunet didn't want to let any of that go, but he knew it was only harmful for him to continue waiting for something more from Draco.

"C'mon, Potter. Fuck me." Draco was trembling under his touches. He was thrusting against his fingers, inviting Harry to go deeper into him.

"Harry." He wanted to hear Draco say it. Say his name. Draco had called him Harry before, but only during the accident and probably to try calming him down. Harry only remembered it vaguely. Now he wished so much to hear Draco moaning his name. At least once.

Draco wasn't saying anything, so Harry pulled out his fingers and tore the wrapper apart. He then rolled the condom onto his cock, stroking it a little to slick it properly.

"It's Harry," he repeated. Harry spread Draco's ass cheeks with his hands, looking at Draco's hole clenching and relaxing. Draco wanted Harry's cock, at least Harry was sure of that. Harry brushed his hole with the tip, not even pushing to go inside.

"Harry. Just fuck me, aight?" Draco conceded, rocking back with his hips.

Harry couldn't resist much longer. He watched his cock entering Draco's stretched hole. If he really thought with his cock, that night at the party would've been already long forgotten. Harry had never felt like this before; never felt that longing for someone else. The problem was that he wasn't desiring only his body, but all of Draco as well. The feeling was almost ruining the moment, seeing as Harry had made a decision.

Draco grunted in pleasure when Harry bottomed out. He stilled for a second, clenching around Harry.

"Harry..." he repeated his name and Harry started to thrust with vigour into him. Harry knew how to move in Draco. He knew his body, his sweet spot, and he proceeded to push against Draco's prostate, making him whimper under him. Harry knew how to pinch his nipples or how hard to grip his hips. What he didn't know was what his mouth tasted like, what it was to be so close to Draco's face they'd breathe the same air, how his face looked as he came apart.

"Mhm, yeah. Right there," moaned Draco when Harry hit the prostate with just the right intensity. He was trembling under Harry's touch, a sign he was close to the climax. Draco pressed his head against the wall and curved one arm towards the back, to interlock his fingers with Harry's dark hair. At that slight pull of his hair, Harry started pumping more rhythmically in Draco, using one hand to stroke his dick. He couldn't help himself, he leaned forward to leave a trail of kisses from his nape of his neck to the shoulders, to Draco's back. Draco was so into it, letting Harry almost completely trap him against the wall. Harry left a hickey in the middle of his shoulders and the mewling that escaped from Draco's lips was enough to make Harry come hard. Moments later, he felt a warm tightness around his lathered cock and heard Draco grunt. Draco had come as well, dirtying Harry's hand and the wall.

The only sound coming from the two boys was heavy breathing. They were completely spent and Harry leaned further against Draco, who still hadn't removed his fingers from the dark locks. Harry was inside Draco and the other guy didn't seem to mind. They couldn't move; they didn't want to.

After a few seconds, Draco turned his head to the right, watching Harry from under his bended arm. He had his mouth still open, trying to regain his breath, which was warm against Harry's face, melting with his own. He was looking in Harry's eyes and Harry met his gaze with the same intensity as Draco's. Draco's gaze was lingering on Harry's lips and the brunet thought _'this is it'_. Could Harry believe that it wasn't all for nothing? Could it be that Draco wanted to take a step ahead and kiss him?

That was it. Harry leaned closer to Draco's lips. It was his last chance, he had to try. He wanted so much to meet those dark, pink lips against his own. He so longed for an assurance that Draco thought more of their relationship than a fuck buddy one.

But when Harry was so close to him, he noticed the panic in Draco's eyes.

It didn't come as a shock when Draco turned his head, causing Harry to only kiss his cheek.

It really didn't.

How could Harry have been so stupid? He had been so set on letting Draco go and instead he had fallen again for an illusion.

 _Stupid stupid stupid. Fuck._

He pulled out of Draco, slightly wincing because of the hurry. He heard Draco grunting in discomfort too, but he couldn't care less.

He tossed the condom on the floor. He just wanted to leave the sooner the better. He dressed hastily, not looking at Draco.

But when he heard Draco clearing his throat and start

"Ay, man-"

"WHAT," spat Harry, turning around to watch Draco with only his boxers on. He shoved the other guy against the wall, exactly where they had sex just moments before. "Ay, man what, huh? Kissing is too much? Too faggoty for Mr Straight Guy here? Thought loving to take it up the ass was way worse. But hey, I'm not as virile as you are, what do I know?"

Harry finished dressing in a hurry, not even bothering to completely buttoning his shirt. He only wanted to get the hell out of there. He couldn't even stand being in the same room as Draco, he needed to breathe fresh air.

Draco opened his mouth to say something, but his eyes looked everywhere else but Harry. The brunet had opened the door, but stopped his movements to hear what Draco wanted to say. Once again, the other guy couldn't cease disappointing him. Draco closed his mouth, looking down to the floor.

Harry bitterly smiled. What was he expecting?

"Yeah, as I thought," he said, shaking his head. "See ya, Draco."

Harry went out and closed the door behind him with a slam.


	16. Jealousy is a curse

There was a black cloud above Harry's head. Yet, for everybody else, it was invisible. Even Lyra could only see that Harry was in a bad mood. After their lesson had ended, they had decided to go back to Lyra's room to watch a movie on her laptop. It was supposed to be a funny comedy and Lyra would've even been laughing if Harry wasn't there emanating a sad, particularly heavy aura.

Lyra had tried to zip it, let Harry start the conversation. She didn't want to be a nagging friend. She had wanted to give Harry time.

But it had been more than three hours and the longest sentence Harry had said had been "Yes Lyra, I'm fucking fine". So yeah, the girl was starting to burst with curiosity/apprehension and was biting her nails to stop her mouth from blabbing something that could set off Harry's anger.

"Harry, what's wrong?" she asked in the end, as she didn't have any more nails to bite.

Harry snapped his head to look at her. He opened his mouth to speak, but he didn't know how to start or what to say.

 _Wanna know what's wrong? Your pussy of a brother is what's wrong!_

He wanted to tell her that, he wanted to let some steam off. He needed to tell her the whole truth. She had to know her brother was gay, that they used to fuck, that he liked Draco so much but that her brother didn't want to kiss him. Or maybe he did want to, but he was fucking scared.

Oh, Harry didn't know what to think, what to do. He wanted to kiss Draco or kill him? Or kiss him then kill him?

Did he want to see him again? Accepting only sex and nothing else? Their sex was mind-blowing, but it couldn't give Harry all he needed. And Harry craved more, he craved all of Draco. But that wasn't going to happen.

Still, the thought of letting Draco go and finding someone else, made him laugh bitterly. Or, even worse, to find Draco with his replacement, since apparently the guy didn't give a fuck of who he was doing it with, as long as it was convenient. Stupid Harry had thought there was something more between them.

Lyra could help him sort it out? He couldn't give her all the information, but advice was always well accepted from his friend.

Harry was starting to collect his thoughts to reply to her question, when 'what's-wrong' appeared almost out of thin air.

That is to say, he just opened Lyra's door, which they had forgotten was unlocked.

Details. For Harry his appearance had come too suddenly and too soon for sure.

"Yo, skank," he greeted her with his usual savoir faire. He threw a small bag of blue weed on her lap. "As you asked..."

Draco's words trailed off when he noticed Harry's presence in his sister's room. Their eyes immediately locked.

"Yeah, like a week ago, assface." She shook her head, not even noticing that the guy's attention was not on her. "And I told you I had my boyfriend over. What if we were getting it on?"

Draco snorted, looking away from Harry to glance at his sister. "Well then use the fucking lock. Ya know how to use it, right?"

Lyra rolled her eyes, mumbling something between her teeth. Harry was still silent, instead.

Draco cleared his throat. "Oh, right. A girl on the fourth floor asked for you."

She arched an eyebrow. "Who? What does she want?"

Draco arched _both_ eyebrows "The fuck should I know. A girl. Fourth fucking floor. Get your ass over there!"

Lyra huffed and puffed, but she got up nevertheless. She threw Harry an apologetic look. She didn't want to leave her friend alone when he was so down. At the same time she loved when other girls asked for her. She had never really had any girlfriends.

"Ok, I'm going. You put the movie on hold," she said to Harry, who only nodded.

After putting on her shoes, she left the guys alone.

Alone.

 _Fuck ._

The silence between them was heavy with tension and Harry wanted to run away from that small room. Yet his ass was glued to the bed. Stupid, stupid hope. Like Draco was going to kiss him in that moment and make all of his worries go away.

Draco was scratching at his nose, probably in search of words to make Harry feel even worse than he already was. He decided to go first.

"Dray-"

"Pott-"

They both started to speak at the same time and at the same time they stopped. An embarrassing silence followed again. Harry decided to nod at Draco to let him speak.

"Listen, there was no reason for you to leave like that yest-"

"No reason?!" Harry shouted, surprising Draco for a second.

"Yeah. I mean we were fucking and the next second you stormed out of the room."

Harry couldn't believe his ears. What the fuck, hadn't Draco been in that same room with him the day before?

"What?! Don't tell me you fucking forgot what happened in between-" Harry shook his head. It was like talking to a wall. "Yeah, okay. Sorry, my fault. I thought you were better, silly me, right? I just didn't know you were such a pussy eater. So much that taking it up the ass on the daily doesn't even ruin your incredible heterosexuality. But it's okay. We're different." Harry hurt at every word, but the look of surprise on Draco's face was a small satisfaction. "I like guys, I like giving it to them. You go fuck your skanks, I'll fuck my guys." He waited a second before adding. "Like Ned."

"NED? Who the fuck is he?" Draco shouted.

Harry could easily see the anger in his eyes. He thought he could also spot jealousy, but that could be only wishful thinking. If anything, maybe Draco didn't like sharing a dick with someone called Ned. Well, too bad.

"Just a guy I've been seeing," Harry replied, crossing his arms.

Draco frowned, almost as if the concept of 'seeing someone' was something incomprehensible for him. "You mean..." he started.

"We fuck, Draco." Then Harry couldn't help it and he had to add "Like you and Pansy."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Yeah, about that-"

"Don't worry, Dray," Harry interrupted. He didn't want to hear anything about Draco and Pansy. "If in between all that pussy you ever feel like going for dicks, I can bang you, sometimes," Harry said, trying to sound as detached as he could. His gaze never faltered and he kept on looking straight into Draco's eyes, raising his chin in a defiant pose.

Draco opened his mouth to talk when Lyra came back. She opened her door, hitting Draco against the shoulder. Curses followed through.

"Oops, sorry." She shrugged, not really sorry at all. The Malfoy siblings had never been very delicate with one another. "She only wanted to talk about a seminar, nothing much."

She went to sit close to Harry, then patted her other side as an invite for her brother. "Wanna watch this with us? It's already in the middle, though."

Draco looked at her, then at Harry. He shook his head. "No... I-I need to go."

Without waiting for Lyra's reply, he went out, disappearing as fast as he had appeared.

Lyra waited only for a few seconds before coming back to the topic they had left off before. Harry mood hadn't improved while she was away. Actually, it seemed even worse. Her stupid brother must have said something even more stupid.

"Harry, wanna talk about it? Whatever it is." Every time Harry's mood would change, she'd get worried. Harry wasn't really comfortable with that, but this time he was almost tempted to let her believe his dark mood was due to his bipolar. But he didn't need to lie, because Lyra apparently wasn't as dense as he thought.

"Is it because of Mystery Guy?" she asked.

Harry looked at her, surprised. Of course she didn't know about Draco, but she hadn't forgotten Harry talking about some guy he had feelings for.

"Yeah," Harry admitted. "I thought there was something between us, but there wasn't. Only a huge pile of shit."

Harry was so bitter telling her about his problem that Lyra had to hug him tight. If only she knew who that guy was, she would beat the crap out of him.

So, This Ned guy.

Who the fuck was he?

Well, certainly he wasn't the guy Harry had been seeing. There had been only Draco for weeks.

Was he just some name Harry had come up with in the heat of the argument?

Not exactly. But that didn't mean that Harry couldn't still hear a chorus of "Liar _liar, pants on fire!"_ in his head.

Harry really only wanted to make Draco angry, and yeah, jealous too. Draco had to believe that he hadn't been the only one getting his tip wet with someone else.

To tell the truth and nothing but the truth, Harry hadn't been missing opportunities to hook up with others, this Ned guy included. He just hadn't wanted to. Not when Draco, maybe...

Harry shook his head, scrolling down the texts on his phone. The text he was looking for was dated two weeks ago. In the text Ned had told him he was going to be in Boston in ten days for a conference and he wanted so much to see Harry before going back to NY. Which was happening... Oh. _Tomorrow ._

Should Harry call him? They had kind of a stormy relationship and Harry didn't even like the guy that much anymore.

Ned was much older than Harry. Nothing really surprising there, looking back at Harry's relationships history before Draco. What had made Ned stand up above the others in a scale of creepiness, was the fact that not only he was more than fifty years old, but he had been also the father of Hermione ex fiancé.

They had met when Harry was fifteen; roundabout at the same time Hermione had met Jimmy, who at the time had been going by the name of Steve. Ned had preyed on Harry like a hawk the moment the redhead had entered the glittery doors of the gay club the old man used to hang out with his other closeted friends. Harry hadn't really stood a chance.

The adolescent boy had just started embracing his sexuality. True, Ned could've been his grandpa, but he was more experienced and had a free way of spending his money like it had been created to grant his wishes, that Harry wanted himself to have.

They had started seeing each other pretty soon after they meet. Harry had been sexually active for about six months and he'd lacked any real experience. Ned had let him explore, and he had taught him. Like _a lot._ Ned was such a nelly bottom that Harry could get better at what he liked the most, be the top. Their relationship hadn't been limited only in the confines of a hotel room. Ned would introduce Harry to the rich and gay of Chicago, he'd take Harry to fancy dinners and he'd listen to whatever Harry had to vent on or confide in.

But when Hermione had announced her engagement to Cormac Maclagan and their families had come to meet one another, Harry had found out the truth. Harry and Ned had mutually decided to stop seeing one another and accept their soon to be relation by law.

The wedding had never happened, however, and they had stopped being in contact after the Potter family had moved to London. Things had changed when bipolar had kicked in while Harry had been in Tottenham. In his months of partying hard, he had found Ned again, divorced and publicly living as a gay doctor in the city. Harry had moved his stuff into Ned's place until the man had thrown him out, due to Harry hosting too many parties at his house characterized by orgies and drugs.

They had not seen each other again. Harry had only contacted Ned after he had gotten stabilized on his meds to apologize. After that, Ned had tried to meet Harry again, but Harry had always refused, since rekindling a story with a man thrice his age hadn't seem to be the appropriate thing to do after he had just gotten his life back.

They had kept sending each other greetings on holidays and Ned would always send him a luxurious present for Harry's birthday. Other than that, their contacts had been little to none. Until two weeks ago, when Ned had texted him asking to hang out while he was in Essex. Of course, when Harry had received the text he still was on cloud fucking nine with the hope of Draco finally starting to feel something for him. Harry had told Ned he wasn't interested. Now though, things had drastically changed and Harry was thinking that seeing Ned again was actually good for him. He wanted to be in the company of someone who had come out and was confident about who he was; someone who didn't fear the proximity to Harry in public.

Those was the reason why Ned's name had come up in his argument with Draco and also why Harry decided to reply to the text informing Ned he'd gladly see him that night.

So there Harry was. At the Back End, a gay bar he had once been dragged to by Lyra.

With Ned.

Harry had expected to have a nice evening in his company, talking about casual stuff, or college. He had thought Ned would give him some advice, like he had always done and then who knows, depending on how the date went they could have really ended up rekindling their old flame.

Instead the thought of spending the night in bed with Ned for anything other than to smother his face with a pillow was far away from his mind. Harry actually wanted to bolt.

Ned was a lecherous old man. And really, he had always have been. But before everything had gone down, Ned appeared as wise and almost fatherly figure, a true connoisseur of the ways of the world. Harry had felt like a pupil with his teacher in Ned's company. Now, however, Harry suspected he was seeing Ned for what he really was for the first time. He was old, definitely too old for him. He was boring, vain, and full of shit about his many great accomplishments. And he was definitely handsy. Fuck, Harry definitely didn't remember how much the man didn't let a single occasion to touch Harry's thigh go to waste. He was sitting so close to the redhead, Harry could feel the heat of his body against his. It soon came to the point where Harry couldn't scoot anymore on the couch unless he wanted to fall down.

What was happening?

Had Ned always been this way or it was a new thing?

Because if it was the former, Harry wanted to beat his younger self to death for having been so fascinated with the man years ago.

With Draco things were the opposite. Harry wanted Draco to touch him so casually in public; he found Draco hilarious and enthralling and hot, so sexy and smart. The moments with him were full of sex and complicity.

But also filled with sadness and frustration, pining after someone who was not going to reciprocate his feelings.

Harry side glanced at Ned. The old man was looking at him as if he was incredibly hungry and needed his refill of Ginger Snap ASAP.

Fuck, was he being better off with someone like Ned?

Or with a Stan, a Severus, or an Evan?

No. There was really only a person Harry could see himself with: Draco.

And since Draco was unavailable, Harry guessed he would really have to go celibate for at least a while.

For the moment, Jack Daniels would have to suffice as the perfect companion to distract the redhead from Ned's vainglorious ramblings. He didn't really care to know how many compliments Ned had received at the conference.

To distract himself even more, Harry took out his phone scrolling to some of the last pictures he had taken. Mostly they were stupid selfies with Lyra, Harry was not ashamed to admit it. Others were of himself, of Ron (usually with a very annoyed expression on his face) and of Draco. Only one. Harry had taken it in a very stalker-ish way: from afar. But how could he not have snapped it when Draco looked so good with a cigarette between his lips, sitting without a care in the world on a bench on campus? It was one of his most treasured pictures even if Harry knew he should just delete it.

Instead of deleting it, though, Harry did something way worse.

He opened the texts and decided that, since he was drunk and bored/creeped out of his mind, he might as well lie and let that fucker Malfoy know what a blast he was having with Ned.

 **[10:16 PM]: You know what Dray?** _-Yeah, let's go with Dray-_ **I'm so done being at your call. I'll give you the money for your damn car but whatever we've had is over now. I'm having so much fun with Ned. He's mature, he doesn't hide and he's not afraid to kiss me, like someone I know. Go fuck your Pansy, I'm gonna fuck Ned senseless. Good and hard.**

Harry sent the text without reading it a second time. He needed for it to get out and for him to get over Draco. So what if Harry didn't have any interest towards Ned? What if he wanted to bolt from those octopus hands of his? Draco had to think the contrary. Harry needed at least a little bit of satisfaction before going back home and forcing Ron to watch some chick flick and eat ice-cream with him.

After not even five minutes, Harry felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. It was a text from Draco. He spent an entire minute looking at the lock-screen, tuning whatever Ned was saying out.

Was it a good reply? A bad one?

And anyway. What was a good reply or a bad one in this case? What did Harry want Draco to say? Was he fucking over Draco or not?

He took a deep breath and read the text.

 **[10:20 PM] Draco: The hell do I care bitch**

Harry let out a chuckle and closed his eyes.

What had he expected, really? Draco telling him to ditch Ned and come back to him 'cause he was so gay for him?

 _Yeah, right._

"Harry? Is everything alright?" asked Ned, noticing Harry distress.

"Yeah, yeah. It's just a text from a friend. She might be sick," he told Ned. He only hoped it wasn't such a blatant lie. A small part of him wanted to prove to Draco he didn't care either and really go fuck Ned, but another, bigger part just wanted to go home and let tears flow.

"Oh. You want me to check on her" His voice became deeper. "And then I can check on you too?"

Harry grimaced internally, but smiled on the front. "No, thanks, I-"

His phone vibrated again. Harry stilled for a second, before reaching out for his phone.

It was another text from Draco.

This time he just opened it. Didn't make any sense to lose another twenty years of his life to discover it was another slur.

 **[10:27: PM] Draco: Where the fuck r u anyways?**

 _What?_

Harry couldn't understand the meaning of the question for the life of him. He replied, though.

 **[10:29 PM]: Well, I'm in the gayest part of town, in the gayest bar with the gayest name ever, all being gay with my gay friend here, soon to have some very gay sex.**

He could already imagine the expression on Draco's face while reading it. He was probably retching every single time he read the word 'gay'.

Harry decided that maybe staying a little longer in Ned's company could be another good fuck you to Draco.

"It's my friend again. She's fine. I'll go later to check on her. Wanna grab another drink?"

Harry was starting to regret his decision to prolong the torture. After almost an hour it was pretty clear that Ned wanted to get reacquainted with his former lover and that he was sure Harry wanted the same thing. Didn't matter that Harry was clearly trying to avoid Ned's hands on him with all his might.

It was near midnight when Harry couldn't suffer the man any longer. When Ned's hand pressed right on his crotch, Harry jumped to stand up.

He was about to tell Ned that he had a great time with him but he really needed to go see his friend now -alone- when his eyes met Draco's.

 _Wait... What?_

"Draco?" Harry asked dumbfounded. There Draco was, his blond hair slicked back with gel, tight dark jeans, and a back button up shirt. He was looking uncomfortable as fuck in there but Harry couldn't help but find him so, so sexy. Damn him.

Draco sneered. "Yeah, you should definitely think of a career as a detective, Pots."

Draco was acting cocky, but Harry could see right through his bullshit. He was vulnerable and out of place even if he was dressed in appropriate clothing. Everything in him screamed he didn't want to be there.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Harry had to ask. He couldn't understand how the fuck had Draco found him, or why he was there, for that matter. Draco didn't care.

Draco seemed to be confused as well, because it took a scratch to the nose and a bite of his bottom lip before he could master all his confidence to tell him

"You have to come with me."

At those words, Harry started to laugh. He couldn't believe his ears.

"Oh yeah? And why should I? I'm having so much fun right now!" Harry certainly didn't want to let Draco know he had been readying himself to leave just before Draco had made his shocking appearance.

Draco's eyebrow shot to his hairline. "With who? That geriatric viagroid?" He pointed at Ned, who was intently watching the altercation between the two. "What's up with you and grandpas, anyways?"

Harry had forgotten about Ned until Draco had taken notice of him and looked back to see the man standing up. Clearly Ned was the one having the most fun, because he put a hand on Harry's lower back and shamelessly checked Draco out, undeterred by Draco's menacing aura.

"Hey, if this is a lovers' quarrel, may I suggest we all go to my hotel room and make peace?" he suggested with a grin.

"What?" replied Harry and Draco in unison. Harry moved away from Ned enough to free himself from the man's hand.

"Yeah. I mean, I have eyes. If your boyfriend wants to join us..."

Draco moved swiftly. He was about a foot from Ned when he asked aggressively. "Huh? What did you call me?"

Ned opened his mouth to reply, obviously confused. But before a word could come out of his mouth, Draco head butted him with enough force to make him lose his balance and fall down, clutching his bleeding nose with his hand.

The sight of blood spurred Harry to intervene. He pushed Draco away from Ned, shoving him by the chest.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" the brunet spat. From the corner of his eyes, he noticed they were attracting too much attention from the crowd and Harry didn't know if he was more worried about Ned's nose or about Draco who had just bashed someone in a gay bar. He shoved Draco again, frustration seeping through his hands.

"Potter..." Draco huffed a breath.

Oh no. Harry didn't like Draco's tone. Draco didn't belong there, he was making sure of that by fucking girls. He wasn't even interested in Harry. The brunet was feeling anger burning up in him. He needed to vent his frustration, to tell Draco to go away.

"No. No 'Potter'. You have no right to barge in here, knock out Ned and pretend that I-"

Harry didn't get to finish his sentence, because something incredible happened. Harry was completely unprepared, no seat belts on, when Draco stopped him and his angry ramblings by kissing him.

It was a hard kiss, made only of lips against lips. It only lasted a matter of seconds, but it was enough to take Harry's breath away. When Draco pulled back, Harry closed his eyes and leaned down on instinct to pursue the kiss, but he didn't succeeded, because Ned's voice came through and disrupted this shining new bubble that had formed between him and Draco.

They both looked at Ned, who was talking with a security guard, pointing at the couple. Harry felt a shiver down his spine, and not a good one. He saw Draco nodding towards an EXIT sign. Harry nodded too as a response.

Draco was the first to move. Harry glanced back at his bloody companion and mouthed "sorry" to him, before following Draco and getting the hell out of there.

They ran to the exit and pushed it open. They never stopped moving until they reached the perfectly patched up Viper. Harry first embraced the hood of the car muttering some tender, apologizing words to the machine. He was so happy to see her like he remembered. Then he looked at Draco, who was still huffing and coughing. Too many cigarettes and zero to no exercising were bound to catch up with his stamina, sooner or later. Harry on the other hand was still fresh and breathing regularly. Not hearing any shouts from some security guy chasing after them, Harry smiled.

"Look at you. You're fucking exhausted, Draco."

Draco showed him the finger. "Yeah, well. Excuse me for preferring sleep over running marathons like your ass."

Harry chuckled. He leaned against his shoulder. Draco didn't flinch.

To say Harry hadn't stop thinking about the kiss from the moment it had happened would be an understatement. No one was in the parking lot, the only sound they could hear was the muffled noises coming from the bars and clubs around them. They were alone. And Harry wanted so much to prove to himself that the kiss had not been a dream; that Draco was there and had kissed him

"Next time I'm taking you on my morning jogs," Harry said with a grin.

Draco scoffed. "Sure. You try that stunt, I'm gonna crash your skull."

"Oh really?" Harry leaned closer to Draco, to the point where the shorter guy found himself entrapped between the car and Harry's body.

"Really," replied Draco, not moving an inch away from Harry. The brunet knew by now how much Draco liked to feel that pressure against him, but he could also tell that this time it was different. They were face to face, their chests tightly pressed against each other.

"And if I kiss you? You gonna crash my skull as well?" Harry asked, looking down at Draco's lips.

"You aren't gonna know if you don't try," answered Draco with a cocky grin. Yet it was easy to notice all the insecurity that was hidden in there.

"Yeah?" Harry could feel Draco's breath against his mouth now, they were so close. He looked into Draco's eyes, before settling his gaze on his lips.

"Yeah..." was Draco's reply before Harry could capture his mouth with his. The stiffness of Draco's lips went away when Harry deepened the kiss by pressing a hand against Draco's neck. Draco let out a moan and that was all it took for Harry to get aroused. That was the third time Harry had initiated a kiss with Draco and the first time he had succeeded. He savoured Draco's taste with his tongue. It was a mixture of cigarettes, sweets, liquor, and just Draco. Harry was feeling overwhelmed by him, surrounded by his smell, his taste, his heat. Harry wanted so much more now. He needed it so badly.

Another moan and Draco's hand going straight to massage his crotch, told Harry that Draco needed the same thing.

"Wanna go in there?" Draco asked, almost breathless. He was nodding towards a dark alley, but Harry was having none of that. He was not going to have dark alley sex. He wanted a proper environment and damn his erection that was so eager to accept Draco's proposition.

"No," Harry managed to say. "We're going to my place."

Harry's tone was so set that Draco opened his mouth to retort, but he closed it the second later. He bit his lips, but nodded.

Without any more words exchange, they climbed into the car.

"C'mon, Draco, I swear my bedroom is not going to eat ya." Harry let out a fake exasperated sigh.

Draco flipped him off while taking off his scarf, which was not an easy task, by the way. Draco was using the same hand to give the finger _and_ moving it around to disentangle his neck from the wool texture. Harry could only find him adorkable. This was strange, considering the brunet had been angry as hell with him just an hour before.

"Yes, I know that. Thank you very much." Still, Draco wasn't crossing the threshold of Harry's room. Harry couldn't really understand the reason, but he knew that for the other guy it was quite a big step. He had never before been in Harry's apartment and their encounters had been mostly on campus or in Draco's frat house, which was pretty much a public place considering all the people Harry had always seen in there. Now Draco was in Harry's world. Harry guessed it was something close to intimacy for Draco.

"So? Just come inside," Harry said, throwing his coat on the chair.

Draco smirked. "Thought you knew I prefer the other way around," he said and entered the room. He looked around until his eyes settled on the bed and licked his lips.

"See? You're still alive. Good job, Dray," Harry joked. He reached for Draco to take off his coat and put it with his own on the chair. "And yes, I prefer the other way around too."

Harry rested a hand on Draco's cheek, who flinched at the first sign of a caress, but he didn't swat Harry's hand away. Taking it as an invite, Harry leaned in to press a soft kiss to Draco's forehead, temple, nose, cheek. He felt the brush of Draco's eyelashes against his skin and sighed. When his lips came closer to Draco's, however, the shorter guy hastily took a step back. Harry looked at him surprised. Even though the lights were off, the moonlight was enough to let Harry discern the battle that was going on in Draco's mind by his face. He was confused and scared, but there was also that tinge of curiosity and desire that made Harry realize that it was up to Draco to take the next step.

He remained in front of him, arms ready to embrace him the moment Draco took action. Draco bit his bottom lip and looked up to meet Harry's eyes. Draco's own were dark and moved to settle on the brunet's lips an instant later. His eyelids closed the same moment his hand went to rest on Harry's neck. Draco urged forward, locking his lips with Harry's.

The first kiss had been hard and fast, more a statement than an act of passion. The second one, which had been initiated by Harry, had been horny and compelling, reflecting Harry's need for reassurance. The third one was the kiss that Harry would never forget. Harry's arms went to hug Draco tightly, with no intention of letting him go any time soon. Draco seemed to share the same opinion, because he pressed himself against Harry's body, resting his other hand on Harry's lower back. Harry could feel that Draco was into it like he was and Harry wanted to prolong the kiss even more, but the room had become steamy hot and they _needed_ to take off their clothes. Harry was the first to break their kiss and he could swear Draco fucking whined, closing again the distance to resume their kissing.

"W-Wait..." Harry stammered, reluctantly pulling away a second time.

"What," Draco snapped. Harry couldn't help himself, he had to grin. The irony that Draco had always been the one refusing the kisses and now he was annoyed that Harry interrupted one didn't go unnoticed. He took off his shirt and went back to kiss him, leaving enough space between their bodies to unbutton Draco's black shirt.

"This looks so good on you, Dray," Harry murmured against Draco's lips.

"Whatever, just-just take it off." Draco was thoroughly losing himself in the kiss, he wasn't even trying to undress himself or Harry and left the brunet to do it. Harry was not going to complain. Actually he parted his lips and let Draco take control of his mouth. The shorter guy was maybe not an expert in the field, but the enthusiasm he was pouring into it made up for the lack of practice. Harry didn't know kissing could be so good and he had had plenty of it in the past.

He managed to take off Draco's button up shirt as well and he pressed their unclothed chests together, their hands roaming on their skin. He could feel his skin burn under Draco's touches and he wanted to feel them everywhere down his body.

Harry walked the dark-haired guy towards the bed until his knees bumped against it and they fell on the mattress, Harry on top of Draco. Neither of them wasted any time as they started grinding against each other. They were both erect and horny as fuck as the layers of clothing became a rather obnoxious disturbance.

Their grinding became deeper and faster and Draco let out a loud moan. "Okay, that's it. Get the fuck outta your pants." Draco said abruptly, clearly not able to take it any slower. Harry couldn't agree more.

They pulled away from each other only to take off their pants. Draco let out an exasperated groan watching Harry still struggling with his jeans and rushed to his aid, taking off his pants and socks together and threw them away on top of their scattered shoes.

They were now stark naked in front of each other. It was not the first time it had happened, but it was the first when Draco didn't just turn his back to Harry and bend over. Instead he went closer to Harry and kissed him again. It was as if after the first kiss now Draco couldn't live without having his lips on Harry's. Harry was not going to complain. He was quickly becoming addicted to the taste of Draco's mouth.

Harry resumed their previous position, grinding down, eliciting a grunt from Draco who followed Harry's movements.

Draco's hands wandered from Harry's neck to his ass, pulling it closer to his hips and Harry decided he couldn't wait any longer. He blindly moved his hand to open the bedside table drawer and grab a sleeve of condoms and lube. Draco's breath hitched with anticipation. Licking his lips, Draco spread his legs, giving Harry space. Harry smiled, noticing that Draco wasn't looking directly at him, but kept his mouth shut. Joking with Draco telling him he was behaving like a bashful bride on her wedding night didn't seem like the right choice for the moment. Instead he leaned down to kiss him on the jaw and moved down his body, scattering open mouthed kisses on his throat, on his chest down to his belly button. Draco's breath became heavier the farther Harry went down and he shivered with anticipation when he heard the sound of the bottle of lube being opened.

Harry adjusted himself in the middle of Draco's spread legs, leaving a trail of wet kisses on the inside of his thighs. He had no intention of indulging too much, though. He was in a hurry, he wanted to get inside Draco as soon as possible and he was pretty sure Draco was of the same mind. He slicked his fingers with lube and pressed a finger against the rim of Draco's hole. He felt Draco clenching around it, but relaxing the moment later. He pushed the finger inside and, deciding to be compassionate, he used his tongue to lick at Draco's tip. Draco's cock was throbbing and his heavy breathing resounded in the silence of the room. Draco sank the fingers of one hand into Harry's hair, pulling him a little more towards his crotch. Harry licked a long strip, from the base to the top and Draco arched back. Harry definitively appreciated how much responsive Draco was.

Harry entered with a second finger. By the third, Draco was a complete mess under him, his hole stretched and slicked, precum was leaking from his angry red cock. Harry pulled out his fingers, causing a whimper to escape Draco's lips. Harry sat on his knees, Draco was again looking at him, expectantly. Harry tore off the condom from its wrapper and put it on his dick, using what was left of the lube on his fingers to lubricate himself.

Draco pushed himself on one elbow, as if he wanted to turn around. But Harry didn't let him. Not this time.

He pushed Draco back on the mattress and set himself on top of him. He leaned down to peck on his lips

"Like this," Harry murmured softly, but determined. He wasn't going to accept any of Draco's bullshit. Draco, for his part, didn't give any. He followed Harry to capture his lips with his own and wrapped his legs around Harry's hips, locking them up by the ankles.

"Have it your way then, Pots," grumbled Draco, before resuming their kiss. Harry chuckled against his lips. The laugh, however, didn't last long. As soon as he pushed inside that tight warmth, Harry closed his eyes to only _feel._ After a while, the kiss became sloppier, until it ceased. Their movements had become too erratic, their breaths too heavy to continue kissing.

It didn't matter. Harry had wanted to kiss Draco for so long, but even the sight of Draco coming apart under him was something he had so longed to see. Now there Draco was, his eyes sometimes closed for the pleasure, other times opened and fixed on Harry's. Draco was beautiful. Pale skin, warm and sweaty, swollen lips so red they seemed bloody. Harry stared at Draco, trying to imprint that moment into his memory, but then he felt his climax approaching and his teeth sank down to Draco's neck, burying his face there. Draco clenched around him, his arms pulling him so tight against himself that Harry thought he was going to melt with him.

"Harry..." murmured Draco. Harry didn't last much further after Draco said his name. He came hard, spilling inside that warmth, filling up the condom. Draco wasn't that far behind, coming right after Harry.

They kept their positions for a while, neither one of them able to move. Their breaths mingled with one another, their eyes still on each other's. It was probably one of the best moments of Harry's entire life, on top of Draco, wrapped around each other. He leaned down to kiss Draco one more time, before pulling out of him and rolling on his back. He removed the condom, tossing it in the little bin close to the bed. They had been so close that Harry was feeling fucking cold now and covered them with the blanket in a hurry. The gesture reminded him a little of the first time they had sex. But now it was so different: Harry was in his own room and Draco seemed too sated and tired to leave the bed. Not that Harry would've let him.

Their eyes met and Harry knew Draco wasn't going anywhere for that night. He smiled softly, before kissing Draco's shoulder and closing his eyes.


	17. Inevitable meeting

Harry was woken up by his radio alarm. 7:30 AM, time to go for a run. That was his usual routine during the weekend. Wake up, go for a run, have a shower, eat, and take his breakfast of champions with meds as a side-dish.

This morning, though, Harry wasn't even remotely considering going for a run. His mind was set on doing something much more pleasurable than jogging for exercise.

Just thinking about what had happened the previous night was making him smile like an idiot and he didn't fucking care. He was happy as a clam and he still couldn't believe Draco had kissed him. So, so many times.

Harry opened his eyes and turned around, to gaze a little at Draco. He had been wondering what Draco would look like asleep for some time already and yes, if that made him a creep it was okay because he really wanted to know if Draco drooled on the pillow or not, or if he preferred to sleep on his back, side or stomach. Harry would've sworn that they had fallen asleep close together and that he had felt Draco's warmth against his chest during the night. When Harry had woken up, though, Draco must have had rolled over the other side of the bed, because there was no body pressed against his.

When Harry turned around, however, there wasn't any sleepy Draco to gaze at.

Harry felt a cold shiver running through his spine and blinked twice to make sure he was really alone in bed.

"Fuck."

Had he dreamed it all? Hadn't Draco come to get him at the Back End (really, how the hell had he found him there first place?) and kissed him?

No, c'mon. A dream can't be that vivid, can it? And no. Harry was not going to believe he had had a psychotic episode, what the fuck. Hallucinations had never been beautiful as last night had been.

Harry scoffed. An empty room in the morning only meant one thing: Draco had bolted.

Well, what was he expecting from Draco? The kiss had already been something close to a miracle.

Yet, the way they had fucked on that same bed had made Harry believe Draco would've stayed for enough time to greet him at least a good morning and _then_ disappear.

A noise coming from the bathroom, however, caught his attention. Something had fallen down and a harsh curse had followed. That was not Ron's voice.

The smile returned on Harry's face and he put a hand on the side were Draco must have slept. It was still warm-ish. Now he could get back to being happy, borderline stupid. Harry relaxed and took out his phone to snap a selfie. He critically looked at the picture and decided he wasn't half bad, his eyes were just a little puffy but otherwise he was still a handsome brunet. He tested his breath resting a hand close to his mouth. Well, it stank; nothing surprising there, Harry could only hope Draco wasn't going to complain.

He closed his eyes. He thought about faking still being asleep so as not to scare Draco. Discovery channel had taught Harry how to behave with wild animals, especially when they used aggression if they felt threatened. Harry figured with Draco he might need the same approach.

He was waiting for his compacted grizzly bear to come to bed, when he heard two doors opening at the same time. One was the bathroom door, the other was...

 _Oh, fuck._

Harry had told Ron to scram yesterday night. He had texted him in Draco's car, telling him that unless he had wanted to assist to a live gay porn, his suggestion would have been to lock himself in his room. Harry hadn't actually specified for how long.

Still, Harry wasn't hearing any sounds. Ron was not an early bird, he was probably walking with closed eyes to the bathroom. Maybe he hadn't even noticed Draco and Draco would've let him pass without creating a fuss.

"Who the fuck are you?!" Harry heard Draco snarl.

 _Yeah, right._

Harry scrambled out of bed. He was wearing only his boxer and he doubted Draco was more covered, judging by the quantity of clothes still scattered on the floor. He opened the door and he found himself in the exact scene he had feared.

An almost naked Draco had grabbed Ron by his shirt and had attached him to the wall. Ron was way taller that Draco, but the shorter guy clearly had the upper-hand and Ron looked scared. Draco had him pressed against the wall and he was about to throw a punch before Harry intervened.

"Draco, stop!" Harry shouted. He shoved Draco away from Ron, hurrying to rescue his friend. Draco bumped against a wall but he was ready to go again. Harry's glare stopped him from trying, though.

"Hey, Ron. You alright?" Harry asked his roommate, who nodded, now definitely calmer.

"Yeah. I just wasn't expecting my journey to go pee to be so hard today." He yawned, then looked at Draco. "So that's him, huh?"

Harry nodded and was about to reply, when Draco walked behind him in a hurry. As soon Harry heard him rummaging through the clothes on the floor, Harry went after him.

"Draco-"

"The fuck does he mean 'that's him', have you told him about me?" Draco was pulling up his pants. It was obvious that the he was going out.

"No," Harry lied. "I only told him about some guy, I guess he did the math."

"Oh, you guess?" Draco growled. "Now he fucking knows!"

"But he doesn't care!" shouted Harry. He wanted to stop Draco from running away. He wanted the other guy to understand that it was safe in there. But judging from Draco's look he was too scared to even consider the possibility.

"Oh, he doesn't care" Draco mockingly replied.

"I really don't!" Ron shouted from the bathroom. Harry rolled his eyes. His friend was not helping the situation.

"Well, then. Everything's fucking peachy innit?" Draco didn't even bother to put his coat on and was now heading for the door.

"Mick, please stop..." Harry plead

"What? You want me to stay here? Forget it- No, actually I'm done. Done." He opened the door. "Done."

Draco slammed the door behind him and all Harry could hear now were his fast steps down the stairs.

Harry put his hands on his face, sighing.

"Fuck..."

Everything had been so good. Draco had slept with him, literally. He was fucking sure they had even cuddled through the night. Draco had kissed him, for fuck's sake. And now... puff! Draco was _done, done, done_. Whatever that meant.

The bathroom door opened and Ron came out. He found Harry still by the door.

"Is he gone?" he asked.

Harry nodded. "Yeah... Apparently having someone walk in on him still half-naked after he'd spent the night with a guy was too much to bear for him."

"Sorry about that," Ron said.

"Not your fault. He's too fucking scared, I guess."

Ron gave him a half-smile. "Well, nothing surprising there, considering what you'd told me."

Harry huffed a breath, walking towards his bedroom. "I dug my own grave, didn't I?"

"Well, he's cute, I'll admit that. In a very rough around the edges way." Ron was trying making him feel better and Harry appreciated that. "I'll hit the shower. Are you going for a run, now?"

Harry shook his head. "No, I think I'll just crawl in bed and cry for a while."

There Harry was, curled up in his bed. The soothing sound of the shower wasn't making him any calmer. He needed to see Draco, but then what? There was nothing he could really say to make Draco change his mind.

To think that not even half a day had passed since Draco had made his appearance at the Back End. Their sex had been mind-blowing. No, not just that. It had been something more than physical, there had been feelings involved. Draco had held onto Harry, looked at him the whole time between kisses and moans. It had to mean _something._ Harry was sure of that and Draco must have felt it too.

It didn't matter, though. Right now, Harry was the only one lying down on the bed. He didn't even know where he was standing with Draco. Harry had broken off their deal the night before, but then Draco had come to get him and kissed him and now Draco had taken off telling him he was done.

 _Argh!_ Harry was so confused. Probably he should have gone for a run, to clear his mind or whatever. At least he still had to go to a rowing session in the afternoon. He would have had less time to think about Draco.

Ron had finished his shower and had gone back to his own room. Harry decided to have a shower himself and drown his sorrows under the water spray. It had been years since the Potters had had to use cold showers because they couldn't afford to pay for the heating, but Harry would still enjoy the warm/boiling water he was now able to wash himself with every time. It managed to take his mind a little off what had happened not even an hour before.

Problem was, the second he got out of the shower he started to think about Draco again. He brushed his teeth lost in his thoughts.

When the doorbell rang, Harry had just finished dressing himself with a pair of sweats and a plain shirt. He still had to make coffee, eat something and swallow down his damn pills, then be sad again. Harry buzzed in whoever they were. It was always good to have a distraction. Jehovah Witnesses and Mormons included.

There was a knock on the door and Harry went to open it. Who he saw in front of him caused Harry to stand there, slack-jawed.

There Draco was, in all his Lip-biting, eyes-averting, nervous glory. The blond-haired guy was standing in front of Harry, chewing his bottom lip bloody. He was carrying with one hand an opened take-out coffee in holder, with three cups of coffee in it, and with the other one a paper bag from the coffee shop Harry would usually go with Lyra.

"Yeah, uhm. I went to get breakfast," muttered Draco after he noticed Harry wasn't going to speak first.

He woke Harry up from his daze.

"I can see that." Harry cleared his throat, not entirely sure what to say. "Huh, thanks?"

Draco nodded and Harry moved aside to let Draco in the apartment. Harry didn't know how Draco wanted to played it out, but at least he was back, with breakfast nonetheless.

Draco followed him to the kitchen and there remained until Harry realized that Draco was too nervous to comply even the easiest things like putting down the coffee and pastries. Harry took them from his hands and put them down on the counter.

"So, I guess the line was pretty long?" Harry asked.

"The what?"

"The line at the coffee shop. You've been out for like an hour." Harry cursed himself internally when Draco looked at him with such a guilty expression. Why couldn't he just shut the fuck up? Draco was there, it didn't matter if he had had to take his time to sort out whatever he was feeling.

"I also had to, huh, take a shower at the house, so..."

"Yeah, I get it."

Draco nodded, finally waking up from his daze and taking out a few pastries from the paper bag. "The other kid is still here?" he asked.

Harry first thought was to defend Ron, but the fact that Draco had brought three cups of coffee made him think that maybe Draco didn't want to kill his friend.

"Still in his room. Want me to call him?"

"Yeah, cause I brought breakfast," muttered Draco, his bottom lip now swollen by the continuing chomping on it.

"I know." Harry was just now discovering how shy and nervous as fuck Draco was. Adorable.

Harry left Draco to go knocking on Ron's door. Ron came out in his sweats and a book in his hand.

"What is it?" he asked, taking off his reading glasses.

"Draco's here," Harry announced. He really didn't know how Ron would react. He had seemed pretty scared when Draco had pressed him against the wall, but after Harry had intervened and Ron had been released, he hadn't look particularly worried, maybe due to him being in a zombie-like sleepiness.

Ron pokes his head to see Draco in the kitchen. "It seems that way. So, what do you want?"

"Draco brought breakfast."

"And that interests me how...?"

"For you too."

Ron's expression was shaped in complete and utter confusion, but he shrugged it off. "Okay, give me a sec." He closed the door and Harry returned back to Draco, who in the meantime had taken off his coat and, well, nothing else. He was a fidgeting little thing and Harry couldn't help but grin.

"Yeah, keep grinning," Draco grumbled. He opened his cup of coffee to throw in it like four small sugar bags.

"That's a lot of sugar," Harry had to say, because he was incapable of keeping his thoughts stuck in his head. He didn't fucking want to scare Bambi Malfoy away.

"I like it sweet."

"I'm sweet." _Damn you Harry, shut up!_

But, against all the odds, Draco scoffed. "No, you're an obnoxious motherfucker."

"More like a grandpafucker," Harry joked. It was so nice to see Draco relaxing bit by bit.

"Ew, Potter. I want to drink the coffee not spew it out."

They heard footsteps and Draco stiffened again. Ron arrived in the kitchen, wearing jeans and a dark gray sweater.

"Did you bring any doughnuts?" Ron asked, going to sit at the stool near the counter.

Draco took a maple glazed doughnut from the bag. "Yep." He looked at the doughnut with a sort of longing. Harry would've bet that that was the pastry Draco had intended to feast upon. Ron must have caught on it too, because he took the doughnut from Draco's hand before Draco could decide to throw away all his efforts of politeness over a sweet.

Draco looked fairly astonished at Ron's boldness. Sure as hell there weren't many people on campus who would dare that much. To Harry's surprise, Draco didn't do anything but scoffing. It appeared Draco was half-way to Nirvana that morning. Harry instead waited for Draco to choose an éclair before picking his own pastry. God, so much sugar, Harry was starting to regret not having gone for a run.

Draco sat on the other stool and Harry rested his pretty ass directly on the counter, since the available stools were already occupied.

They started eating their breakfast in silence, nobody really knowing what to say. Or, in Harry's case, he had to stop himself from blurting out how happy he was that Draco had decided to come back, especially in front of Ron. Draco was fidgeting, sometimes opening his mouth to say something and closing it again with a mouthful of éclair. The one who was really, totally relaxed was Ron who, after having established Draco wasn't going to crush his skull any time soon, was still keeping his mouth shut simply because he didn't feel the need to. Well, except after he kept noticing Harry and Draco sending heated glazes to each other probably thinking they were subtle.

"Okay," he said, after finishing his doughnut. "I need to know: is this going be a regular thing or what?" Ron waved from Harry to Draco.

Draco, who was trying to be as nonchalant as possible sipping his remaining coffee, spluttered on the table. At the same time Harry pushed his hand against Ron's mouth.

"What the fuck, Ron?!"

"Well, I want to know if I'm going to find again the guy in the apartment," Ron justified himself, while Draco was still coughing.

Red as a lobster, Draco turned to look at Ron. He stretched out his arm to grab him by the neck. "You try telling someone, I'm going to fucking kill you."

This time, Ron didn't seem too fazed by Draco's homicidal stance. He sighed. "Listen, I don't really care and I wouldn't even know who to tell. So you can be _friends_ as much as you want with Harry here."

Draco looked stunned and released the grip. He remained without words for a few seconds, before taking his éclair and finishing it in a mouthful. "Fucking right you keep your mouth shut," he threatened while chomping the pastry.

Harry sighed in relief. It seemed no one was going to die in the apartment that day.

Draco appeared more relaxed now, with food in his belly and the knowledge that Ron was not a threat. That didn't mean that Draco was completely at ease. He didn't touch Harry and he didn't speak if not to say "yes" and "no" in case he was asked. Ron was never the talker, so Harry decided to be silent too. To start having a conversation with an empty cup of coffee didn't seem a healthy thing to do.

"Well, I have to go now," Ron said, getting up. Harry frowned. Ron would never go outside the house so early in the morning on a weekend.

"You got a study group?" asked Harry, following him to the bedroom. Ron was putting on his coat when he scoffed.

"No, I don't. I just need to leave the two of you alone and read in silence at the library. Maybe you haven't noticed, but I keep on receiving 'go away' vibes from your friend there."

"Really?" Harry hadn't noticed a thing, but he had been more preoccupied on catching 'I'll kill you' vibes from Draco.

"Yeah, really. So, since I'm the only sane person here -and no, I don't mean you're bipolar, I mean you're a dork- I'm getting away from here. In the meantime I beg you to make him feel comfortable around here ASAP because I'm not disappearing every time he visits."

Harry would never know why, but he felt his cheeks flushing. "Y-yeah. Sure."

Ron nodded. He went back to the kitchen greeting goodbye to Draco and he was outside, leaving Harry and Draco alone.

The magic happened. Draco appeared much more relaxed now, actually managing to look at Harry directly in the eyes.

"So, we alone now?" he asked. He got up to trash the remaining of their breakfast.

"Yes. He has to meet with his study group."

Draco nodded. "No one else coming?"

"No one. We have the house for ourselves for a few hours."

Draco licked his lip. "Good. You wanna fuck?"

Harry snorted. It was always so incredible how Draco could be so blunt when it came to get down to it, but such a scaredy-cat whenever something more than fucking was involved.

"Sure, I've got to piss first. Use the time to take some of your clothes-" Harry didn't even finish the sentence that Draco was making a beeline to the bed. The brunet smiled and went to the bathroom to take his pills.

"Well, you took your sweet time, Pots," a completely naked Draco reprimanded Harry. The brunet was not going to tell him he had wanted to wait out the immediate side effects of his meds.

"You'd rather keep on complaining or you want me to fuck you?" Harry put his hands on the shirt, raising the hem just slightly. Draco licked his lips. Harry noticed the light-haired guy was already hard, he had probably touched himself while Harry was in the bathroom. Fuck, he liked to see Draco that way, naked and lustful. He could see the bruises and hickeys he had left on his pale skin the night before and the fact that Draco was laying on his bed just transformed the sight in a vision.

"Whatcha think?" Draco asked, pressing a forefinger on the tip of his cock.

Harry let out a shaky breath. Since he was a dork, he had to comment, though.

"I think you only need a red bow around your cock and you'd be my perfect early birthday present."

Draco gave him the finger. "Fuck off. I'm not a fucking gift."

"You are to mankind."

Draco limited himself to hold his middle finger high in the air.

"Yeah, yeah. I just went ahead. Why the fuck are you still dressed?"

He didn't take long for Harry to shed off his shirt and sweats. The boxers followed soon after.

"When is it, anyway?" Draco asked in a low mumble.

"What?" Harry put a knee on the mattress.

"Your birthday, fuckhead."

Harry looked at him in surprise. "You really wanna know?"

Draco rolled his eyes "No, I don't. But since you're taking so goddamn much to get on me, I tried filling the gap with fucking conversation."

Harry scoffed and went on top of him. Draco tried to move, but Harry pressed his body-weight against him. They both huffed out a loud moan when their hips touched.

"I'll tell you if you'll tell me," Harry suggested. Like he didn't already know. He wasn't Lyra's best friend for nothing.

"Told you, I don't fucking care." Draco switched them off, being now on top of him.

Harry arched an eyebrow. His facial expression was not as communicative as Draco's, but it could totally convey his disbelief. He flipped them off and Harry was again on top of the shorter guy.

They were both breathing heavier, because their continued movements had them touching each other's body again and again. Harry was hard and Draco looked down at their pressed bodies, licking his Lips.

"Okay, I'll tell you anyway, since you wanna know so badly," said Harry, drawing Draco's attention on him. Draco's eyes were now flicking from his eyes to his lips. Harry leaned in, kissing Draco slowly. Draco parted his lips for Harry's tongue to enter. The kiss lasted some moments, before Harry pulled back. "July 31st," he whispered against his lips. Draco's hands were roaming on Harry's sides, his thighs opening to let the brunet adjust better in the middle. The fact that Harry had been able to tell him his birthday's date was something close to a miracle.

"And mine is June 5th, now will you fucking get on me or do I need to send you an invitation to my fucking future birthday party?"

Harry was almost telling him that yes, it wouldn't be half bad, but Draco prevented him by kissing him again, this time longer and deeper. "Enough chit-chat, Pots," he whispered against Harry's lips, before licking them and pushing his tongue inside. Harry decided he could totally shut up and get to the dirty part.

"Turn," Harry softly commanded. He gave him one peck on the jaw and moved away from Draco to let him stand on his elbows and knees.

"And here I thought you wanted to smooch some more," Draco commented in a snort. "Glad you're finally getting to it."

Harry smiled and loudly kissed Draco's arsecheek. "Can still smooch your ass."

Draco's chuckle faded out as soon as Harry's tongue lapped at his rim. A moan was left instead. Harry spread his ass, spending a few seconds to look at his fingers digging into that perfect pale skin. The rolling shutters at the window were up and the sunlight was pervading the bedroom. It was corny as hell, but Harry was really enjoying touching Draco's skin bathed in the light.

Harry licked a second time and he felt Draco relaxing under his ministrations. He sucked at his rim and Draco immediately pushed back. Draco's body was always so responsive. Harry loved it. He pointed his tongue and pressed it inside, eliciting a grunt from the other guy. Harry didn't find much resistance, so he pinched at Draco's ass.

"You came here already prepared?" he asked with a hint of amusement.

Draco buried his face against the pillows. "Told ya I took a shower..."he muffled.

Harry nodded happily and got back to work. Even if Draco was already stretched out, there wasn't any real reason to quit the rim job. Not when it gave pleasure to them both.

But Harry didn't want to finish Draco off that way. He detached himself from Draco to go rummaging in his bedside drawer. The lube was there but, shit, where the fuck were the condoms?

"You see any condoms?" Harry asked. "They must have fallen somewhere last night."

Draco sighed in frustration, but started to look around to find the godforsaken condom wrappers. They wanted to play by themselves, not at hide-fucking-seek.

"Found them!" Draco exclaimed and Harry was taken in by the sight: Draco with his ass wiggling in the air while fetching the condoms from under the bed.

Harry thought for only a quarter of seconds before giving in and slapping Draco hard on the ass. "Good job!" As soon as he came to his senses, he wondered if it had been a good idea, or a bad one? Harry didn't know, but the temptation had been too much.

He only received high eyebrows from Draco and he felt giddy and confident because the man hadn't responded with a fist straight to his face. Harry took one wrapper and rolled the condom on his dick, giving it a few strokes smeared with a drop of lube.

"Hands on the headboard," said Harry and Draco accomplished. So there Draco was, hands on the headboard, spread thighs and his pièce de résistance ready for Harry. The brunet used his lube-slicked fingers to stretch him a little more, but Draco's enthusiastic thrusts back suggested him that Draco was good to go. He pushed inside, causing them to moan in unison. Harry put a hand on Draco's hip in a bruising grip and the other right on top of one of Draco's. To steady himself, sure. Once again Harry noticed the just barely there dark shadows on Draco's knuckles. Harry interlaced their fingers together and rocked further into Draco, bottoming out. He rested his forehead against Draco's back, giving Draco the time to adjust. Apparently the other guy didn't need it because he clenched around him and thrust back, inviting Harry to move.

They started slow, Harry's hips rocking against Draco. Harry shifted his hand from the hip to the abdomen and began kissing Draco's back, from the nape to his shoulders, right in the middle of the shoulder blades. For every deep thrust Harry sucked at his skin, leaving a mosaic of hickeys. He heard Draco's soft moans when he grazed with his teeth and Harry thought that was the rhythm he liked: slow but passionate, full of touches and kisses. Draco seemed to agree, at first. Until he turned his head and captured Harry's mouth in his in a searing kiss.

"Get a move on," he breathed against Harry's lips.

Harry could only carry out his duty. The hand he had resting on the abdomen went back gripping Draco's hip. The thrusting became quicker and Harry almost pulled out, only to slam himself inside the moment later in a deep, hard thrust. Soon the headboard was rocking following their rhythm and Harry hoped to God no one was sleeping on the other side of the wall.

Draco let out a loud grunt and Harry knew he had found his prostate. He kept hitting his sweet spot and Draco reached around to grab at Harry's ass. It was enough of a leverage to pull the brunet deeper into him and Harry muffled a moan sinking his teeth into Draco's shoulder.

"I'm gonna..." Draco groaned, his knuckles white from gripping with suck force at the headboard. Harry was also close to reach the climax and left Draco's hip to stroke his leaking shaft in unison with the thrusts.

Draco was the first to come, stimulated as he was by both sides and Harry pistoned into him for a bit more, before following him into orgasm. He shot his load in the condom and Draco gave him little time to rest on top of him, until his knees gave up and they both sank on the mattress.

Harry got rid of the rubber before resting on his side, contemplating Draco from under his eyelashes. Draco's chest was heaving fast, the man trying to regain his breath. He was stretching his fingers in the meantime and Harry's eyes were captured once again by the almost invisible smudges on the knuckles. By now, Harry was pretty sure they were faded tattoos and he wanted to ask Draco about them, but with him, well, one may never know how'd react. Maybe there was written 'I-3-COCK' and Draco didn't want anyone to know. Harry highly doubted it, but he still didn't know if it was safe to ask.

Almost as if Draco had been reading Harry's thoughts, he held up both his hands. "Just ask."

"Can I?" Harry looked at him surprised

"Not a big secret."

"Are those tats?"

Draco nodded. "Yeah. Well. They were. I got a laser removal. I just never went to the last session." Draco traced his tattoos first with the forefinger of one hand and then with the other. "FUCK U-UP."

Harry snorted. "Seriously?"

"Yeah, man. Got wasted when I was a freshman and I woke up with these. I even thought they were kinda cool." Draco scoffed "That is, until I got home and dad hexed the shit out of me and got me laser appointments."

"Oh."

"I can't exactly go into politics with a curse on my knuckles."

"True," Harry convened. "But you didn't eliminate the tats completely."

Draco covered his hands under the blanket. "Laser removal sucks. They're practically gone, so I decided to skip, no big deal."

Harry decided to nod, but he was sure there was a deeper meaning behind it. Draco was deeper than he let on. He was layer on layer of complexity, starting from a rough edge, skin hard as steel, to finish in what Harry hoped was a soft core.

Maybe Draco kept the fading tats as a small rebellion against the father, maybe he didn't. For the moment Harry was already happy that Draco had shed some more layers with him.


	18. Booyah

_OH, DRACO, YOU'RE SO FINE. YOU'RE SO FINE, YOU BLOW MY -_

With a grunt, Harry pressed his fist on the button of the radio alarm, causing the catchy song to stop.

"..."

His brain caught on the lyrics with a discreet delay and Harry finally recognized the song. Immediately he turned on the radio.

 _OH, DRACO, WHAT A PITY YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND. YOU TAKE ME BY THE HEART AND YOU TAKE ME BY THE HAND_

With the song 'Hey Draco' by The Wicked Sisters, Harry woke up with a huge smile on his face. The fact that he had to stay up until late the night before because of midterms wasn't showing on the brunet, who felt full of energy because, frankly, he was quite happy.

 _OH, DRACO, YOU'RE SO PRETTY, CAN'T YOU UNDERSTAND? IT'S GUYS LIKE YOU, DRACO._

Harry got up and stretched a bit. He felt his bones creak with a certain satisfaction. The sun was shining and spring was approaching.

 _AND WHAT YOU DO, DRACO, DO, DRACO. DON'T BREAK MY HEART, DRACO_

The brunet took out his running gear. He changed his boxers and put on the sportswear. With light feet he went to the bathroom.

 _OH DRACO!_

Was Harry manic? No, no, and NO.

Harry had just spent the last two weeks kissing Draco without having the guy complain, or worse, kill him. Well, when in private, obviously. Draco seemed to have taken a liking to fuck face to face too, much to Harry's delight. Their encounters were being held at Harry's place for the most part. On a fucking bed. Not that the janitor's closet had been abandoned, that would've been a pity.

So yeah, Harry was simply feeling happy because Draco was making him happy.

Shuffling through his songs while running, Harry realized that he didn't have 'Oh Draco' in his playlist. He so decided to choose 'Lollipop' by Chordettes that had been put there by his younger brother Dudley, who had insisted that if 'Cherry Pie' was about virgin's pussy, Lollipop was the anthem song about sucking your boyfriend's dick. Harry didn't really know if those four acapella girls were seriously singing about how much they liked to perform oral, but he thought that, all in all, the song was just right for his mood.

 _AND WHEN HE DOES HIS SHAKY ROCKIN' DANCE, MAN I HAVEN'T GOT A CHANCE._

Draco rocked, alright. Now that their sex positions were not limited like in the closet, they could explore more and Draco was an enthusiast little sexy thing. And since that the kiss taboo had been lifted, Draco had no trouble letting Harry hear all his moaning. More often than not Draco would let Harry fuck him slow and deep, engulfing Harry in a tight lock made of arms and legs. Two nights before Draco had scratched so much at Harry's back that the brunet now sported red marks on his skin.

Harry licked his lips. Draco being so earnest was something he loved. He had always been straightforward with what he liked during sex, but it had always been under limitations. Now Harry would fuck him looking at Draco in the eye and he knew the shorter guy fucking loved it.

 _I CALL HIM LOLLIPOP LOLLIPOP OH LOLLI LOLLI LOLLI LOLLIPOP LOLLIPOP_

During History of Magic, Harry couldn't care less if Grindelwald was a man or a woman, gay or straight, pansexual, bisexual or whatever, or even if he was rich or poor, or a pen name or God knows what. Harry's entire focus was Draco's lollipop -pardon, cock. He didn't even notice that he was sucking on his pen. As soon as he did, Harry put the pen down and adjusted his pants, uncomfortably. He was actually glad when Lyra started talking to him because he was in serious need of a distraction.

"Were you thinking about sucking something else than a pen?" Lyra asked. She wasn't going to give him even a tiny bit of a distraction, of course.

"Lyra, what the fuck?" Harry whispered. He was thankful they were seating in the furthest row.

"Oh, c'mon, Harry. You never talk about him, but I know something's up. In these past two weeks, I think. And I bet it's your Mystery Guy," she replied convinced.

Harry rolled his eyes. As expected, Lyra had noticed his recent good mood. Harry wanted to tell her everything, so fucking much, but he knew he couldn't. At least not until Draco said so.

"Well, you're right. But you know I can't tell you who he is."

Lyra sighed. "I know, I know. I still think it's stupid but okay. Just... tell something to your best friend in the whole world. Throw her a bone to chew on."

She smirked and Harry couldn't help but do the same. "Oh, alright. I think, you know, that he's interested in me."

"Does he have that look in his eyes?"

Harry snorted. "You and that fucking look. He has lots of looks, the fuck do I know which one is the right one? Sure as hell he gives me some horny looks sometimes..."

Lyra giggled. "Well, horny looks are important as well. And you look so fucking happy, Harry. I hope that fucker knows how lucky he is to have you so whipped up."

Harry smiled.

"How did that happen anyway? You were so gloomy because of him before," Lyra continued.

"Oh..." Harry's cheeks reddened a few shades. "He kissed me. He had never done that before, so..."

Lyra bumped their shoulders together. "Well, good for you! Now you can smooch as much as you want."

Not as much as Harry wanted, maybe. But it was certainly a good start. Draco was coming tonight at Harry's and the brunet had every intention of making out a little before going down and dirty on him.

"It's so not fair, though," Lyra huffed a breath. "You get all happy with your guy and my asshole of a brother is having some steamy hot sex with his girl. What about me? I'm the cutest between you two and my deepest relationship right now is being a fag hag."

Harry would've even laughed at Lyra's self-definition, but the part about Draco captured his attention more.

"His girl?" he managed to let out. "You met her?" _Fuck,_ was Draco doing a girl too? Harry was quite persuaded that Draco was totally gay by now, but what if he was still banging chicks on the side to held up appearance?

"What? No." She shook her head. "No, but he is too like all happy 'n shit. Well, in his case he's less bitchy and grumpy. But I called him like last week and when he answered he was... I think he was with her. Never knew that a guy could mewl." Lyra laughed to herself.

At those words Harry visibly relaxed, since he was the girl who had made her brother fucking mewl.

 _"Shit, it's Lyra again," Draco grumbled. He closed the lock screen again and put his phone on the bedside table._

 _"So?" Harry was feeling guilty as shit for not telling the truth to his best friend, but that didn't mean that he wanted her to distract Draco from relaxing and enjoy the foreplay Harry was setting up before going down on him._

 _"She usually never calls twice in such a small gap of time." Draco laid down better on the mattress, giving Harry all the space he could between his spread legs. Harry grunted, going back to lick at his inner thigh. "I mean, it's weird, you know."_

 _"Then fucking call her back," he snapped. To make his point, Harry bit where he had been licking._

 _Draco flinched, but then shook his head. "Nah, bitch must know her place." He made his decision and relaxed, resting his hand on the curls on top of Harry's head. Harry loved feeling Draco's fingers caressing his hair. Or pulling them when he was taken by pleasure. Actually, Harry just loved the feeling of Draco's finger on him. Period. Harry smiled and sucked at the bite mark. Draco moaned._

 _And Lyra called._

 _"What if it's something serious?" Draco asked to a deeply annoyed Harry. Still, if Draco was worried, maybe something had happened to Lyra and Harry would've jumped in to help her._

 _"Just fucking answer, Dray," Harry burst out. Draco decided to comply._

 _"What," snapped Draco at the phone. Harry was still, trying to understand what was happening. "No, I don't know where your fucking weed is."_

 _Harry rolled his eyes, deciding that the weed's whereabouts was not on top of the emergency list. He went back to work and, since the foreplay had gone out of the window, it was time to go straight to the point._

 _"Why should I-" Draco let out a surprised groan as Harry took him in his mouth. He shoved Harry's head back, but it was all for nothing. Harry was holding his position and he started to bob up and down Draco's cock. "There's no one here- Oh fuck!"_

 _Harry smiled around Draco's erection, enjoying the problem Draco was having at keeping his moans back. Well, Harry was having none of that. He used the tongue just how he knew Draco liked it. He felt Draco shivering under him._

 _"Skank... why the fuck should I lie to- mhn- you?" Draco managed to say. Harry was pretty sure he wasn't fooling Lyra one tiny bit. To make sure of it, Harry slicked one finger with the mixture of saliva and precum that was drooling on Draco's balls. He waited for Draco to be in the middle of a sentence._

 _"Fuck you, what do you-" Harry swiftly proceeded to push the finger inside Draco at the same time he went to deep throat him. The sound that the shorter guy produced was so close to a mewl, that a very embarrassed Draco immediately closed the call and threw the phone far away on the floor. Harry pulled out with his mouth, letting a grin appear on his smug face. If looks could kill, the one Draco gave Harry at that moment would've whacked Harry straight away. But Harry survived and, after licking along the underside of his cock, went back to suck him again. Draco didn't even try to stop him._

"Well, I can make guys mewl just fine," Harry grinned. The smile rested on his face for the whole lesson.

Harry didn't even need to smile for Seamus to know what was going on. They were in the library, studying for midterms, when Seamus broke the silence.

"Someone's here is giving it on the daily, huh?" Seamus observed. "Must be nice."

Harry was not even surprised that Seamus had recognized all the signs. The guy could smell sex from a mile away. Still, he had always made Harry feel uncomfortable because Seamus' gaze would always set on his crotch.

"Yeah, Seamus, eyes are up here."

Seamus rolled his eyes. "Anyway. Is your new boy toy Sanchez? I didn't even know he was gay."

Harry looked surprised. "Sanchez? No, why?"

"Why? I saw you two together with Malfoy. He was beating up the poor guy! I wanted to call security but what if Draco had spotted me? I already tried his fists, no thank you." Then he was quick to add. "But I'm so glad your pretty face is still intact!"

Seamus had probably mistaken Sanchez getting beaten up as fag-bashing. Harry actually wanted to defend Draco's honour, but what was he supposed to tell? That Draco had beaten the crap out of Sanchez because he'd lost once again at poker?

 _It was pretty dark already and Harry and Draco were going to Harry's place. Harry only wanted to relax a little and then fuck Draco senseless in bed. That seemed like a perfectly good plan._

 _What happened instead was Sanchez. He was coming in their direction, looking at his phone, when Draco shouted_

 _"Hey, Sanchez!"_

 _Immediately Sanchez looked up to see Draco coming onto him like a fucking rhino. He turned to run, but it was too late. Draco caught him and swung his fist straight against Sanchez's gut. The poor guy dropped like a sack of potatoes._

 _"What? I don't deserve a simple hello?" Draco said and kicked him again against his belly._

 _"Draco what the fuck?!" Harry exclaimed. He shoved Draco away, enough for Sanchez to stand up, but not so much to prevent Draco from going at Sanchez again. He blocked the Sanchez guy against a wall with his arm pressing at his chest._

 _"Sanchez, you know you can't keep losing, if you don't have the money," said Draco, locking eyes with the guy. Harry didn't know if it was wise to separate them or just let Draco do whatever he needed to do._

 _"Yeah, I know. Sorry Draco, it's just that my father is not giving me that much allowance anymore and-"_

 _"What? You scared of telling your daddy?" Draco mimicked his voice. "I don't fucking care. I've already told you months ago. You don't pay, you're gonna make sure your father listens to what mine has to say."_

 _Harry could see the panic growing in Sanchez's eyes._

 _"I-I can't, Draco. If he knew I lost so much money... I can't!"_

 _"I don't fucking care. How can you call yourself a man if you shit your pants at the thought of facing your fucking father? You do it, or next time I won't be so lenient."_

 _Harry knew it was not the right situation to make Draco notice how the same sentence could be applied to Draco himself. Harry had tried to initiate the Lucius topic, but every time, Draco had shut down. Harry had decided to let it go, at least for the time being. Draco was too beautiful in his arms to ruin the moment by talking about his damn father._

 _"But he's gonna disown me!" Sanchez cried._

 _"And I'm gonna put your six feet under, your fucking choice."_

 _Draco shoved the guy once again against the wall. He pointed his forefinger at him. "Next time I see you, you better have told your daddy."_

 _Sanchez only managed to nod before running away._

 _Draco sighed, leaning against the wall._

 _"You think you got your point through?" Harry asked, getting closer to Draco. The shorter guy put a hand on Harry's chest to keep him at a safe distance, but he also rested it there._

 _"Hope so. That guy is a pain in the ass." Absentmindedly, Draco started fumbling with Harry's coat's buttons._

 _"Mhm. Wanna experience something better in your ass?"_

 _Draco chuckles. "That's such an awful pick-up line, seriously man."_

 _"I've already picked you up." Harry shrugged. "And I really, really want to get under the blankets. It's getting fucking cold, c'mon."_

 _"Are the blankets the only thing you wanna get under?" Draco asked, wiggling his eyebrows and causing Harry to laugh._

 _"Yeah, cause that is not an awful innuendo, huh?"_

"I don't know what happened, I just found myself in the middle of it all," said Harry. "And no. Sanchez is not the guy I've been seeing."

"So who is your bae? Malfoy?" The thought made Seamus laugh so hard that he got immediately shushed by the other students in the room. Harry only wanted to wipe off that smile on his face by telling him the truth, but he only forced himself to smile as well.

When Harry came back home, he was greeted by, well, no one. There were two people in the living room and both of them were too focused on battling each other on Mario Kart to pay attention to the brunet.

"Yeah, eat my dust, man!" Draco was sprawled on the sofa, his socked feet comfortably resting on the coffee table among empty beer cans. It looked like he was ahead of Ron. His roommate wasn't saying anything, he was frowning and following attentively the game. Harry knew by now Ron was a sneaky motherfucker. He would stay silent, letting you think you might win and then...

"BOOYAAA!"

Ron exclaimed, getting up and throwing the joystick on the sofa. Harry smiled, he was used to his modus operandi, but Draco apparently hadn't made peace with it yet.

"You cheated!" Draco shouted. He seemed ready to attack him, but he resolved in crossing his arms sporting an adorable pout on his Lips that Harry wanted to kiss away. Of course he was not going to do that. Not that he wouldn't want to, but Draco had still to get used to the idea of kissing in front of Ron. It had happened once, though, and Ron had made it out alive.

 _"You sure Ranger is not here?" Draco asked in a whisper against Harry's Lips._

 _"God, Mick. You really have to use that slur?" Harry asked, but he didn't stop his hands from roaming on Draco's bare chest._

 _"He's a read-head, right?" Harry rolled his eyes. "Where is he?"_

 _"Library," the brunet replied. Satisfied with the information, Draco relaxed again under Harry's touches, leaning in to engage him in a deep kiss pulling Harry by the neck. Harry smiled in the kiss, closing his eyes and meeting Draco's tongue with his. He loved Draco's taste._

 _Draco adjusted himself to make Harry more comfortable on top of him and they soon found themselves dry humping like a pair of teenagers. It was even a nice feeling, but it seemed quite a waste seeing that they had the apartment to themselves._

 _"Fuck. Just-just fuck me," Draco murmured, inviting Harry by grinding harder against his crotch._

 _"Here?" Harry asked surprised, but not completely opposed to the idea._

 _"Yeah, here. Got condom and lube in the bag." Draco nodded to the bag thrown on the floor._

 _"Always the boy-scout, huh?" Harry stretched out his arm and reached for the bag. He rummaged through it one second before finding the two, much needed objects._

 _"Whatever." The shorter guy was already unzipping his pants._

 _Harry chuckled, before kissing Draco again. He wanted to make out some more before going to the fucking. Draco was at ease with kissing now, but only if it lead to sex, so Harry was set on prolonging the moment as more as possible. Not that he didn't want to fuck Draco, but he had discovered himself to be addicted to kiss those dark pink Lips._

 _Draco was eager in the kiss, moving his hands down Harry's back, hot against his fingertips. They were so taken by feeling up their bodies and mouths against each other's that they didn't notice a presence by the kitchen, who was watching the scene in bemusement._

 _"Really? The couch?" Ron shown himself to the guys deeply entangled with each other on the sofa. Harry could've even laughed at the scene, but he froze thinking about the reaction of the guy under him. Draco had wide eyes with a look of deep terror in them. He got up, shoving Harry to the other side of the furniture._

 _Before any of them could say anything, Ron opened the fridge to grab a bottle of water. "You should check my bedroom before thinking you have the house to yourself, Harry. I was skyping with my mother. Think how she would've appreciated hearing you two getting on to it."_

 _It seemed Draco was in such confusion that he only opened and closed his mouth to say something, but he didn't emit any sound. Harry was ready to get up, but Ron waived his hand dismissively._

 _"You two can do whatever you want, but please, not on the couch. The couch is only for television's stuff. And I don't mean porn." Ron gulped down some water. "Anyway, going back to my room. I think you should do the same."_

 _Not receiving any replies from either Draco or Harry, Ron made his way back to his bedroom, leaving the two guys alone and quite shocked._

So yeah, Ron survived and Draco and Harry never touched the couch again for anything that wasn't related to television activities. Harry would knock on his roommate door to make sure he wasn't there before going to fuck Draco's brains out and a weird, but functional relationship had been building up among the three students.

The episode had never been brought up and Draco had been trying to make himself appear the most mainly as possible in Ron's eyes. Ron needed help with the beer cap? There Draco was, opening it with his teeth. Once Ron had chosen a horror movie and Draco had tried to laugh at the scariest scenes and be cool as shit, even if Harry had noticed how Draco would sometimes give up a little jump.

And now there they were on the couch, Draco having just lost at Mario Kart without killing Ron for his victory. The shorter guy took a sip of his beer and that's when he noticed Harry standing at the front door. He smiled and Harry had to refrain himself from melting in a poodle of goo right that instant.

"Hey, Harry," greeted Ron, sitting down to reset the game. "Do you wanna play?"

Harry shook his head. He knew that he was shit at Mario Kart compared with the two. He instead picked a half full can of beer and was ready to chug it down when Draco stopped him by grabbing his arm.

"We just ordered pizza. Wait to get something in your belly first."

It was not the first time Draco had interrupted him from drinking alcoholic. Harry had noticed Draco watching him like a hawk when Harry would dare touching a second bottle of beer. Harry understood that since the night of the accident Draco thought of him as a dangerous drunkard, but sometimes the shorter guy was so wary of Harry drinking that the brunet only wanted to tell him he wasn't going to wreck his damn car another time.

"Okay, I'm going to change," Harry decided to play it out. If Draco was more comfortable with him not drinking, Harry wouldn't drink. It was important for Draco to feel at ease in a new environment, not so different from an adopted cat in a new home.

"Yeah. Got still time to play another game with the nerd here," Draco replied. Ron rolled his eyes, but he soon focused his attention on the race.

It was shocking how easily Draco seemed to fit in Harry and Ron's living room with his cussing and belching. They were watching a Seagal movie that he imposed because it was 'one of the best movies of the last century' in his opinion and Draco knew almost every word. Harry watched him mouthing quotes in the darkness of the room and he found him endearing. He moved a hand close to his thigh, but Draco immediately scooted to put some distance between them. Ron knew about them but it was not enough for Draco to be okay with Harry touching him when they weren't completely alone. Still, that wasn't enough to discourage Harry, who would 'accidentally' bump their shoulders or whisper some lewd words in his ear.

By the beginning of the credits, Harry and Draco made a run for Harry's bedroom.

When Ron was home, they would keep quiet, muffling their moans against each other's mouths. The first time Draco had had sex with Harry knowing the roommate was in the other bedroom, Draco had taken a lot to loosen up. Now Draco seemed even more excited and he'd accept slow fucking instead of fast and hard (and loud) without throwing a fit. Harry was sure enough to bet that Draco actually pretty liked going slow, he just couldn't bring himself to admit it.

Even this time they took their damn time, Harry on top of him, kissing every inch of the skin of his back, sometimes moving up to gently bite at his earlobes. Draco's face was against the pillow, trying hard not to emit a loud moan that was threatening to escape his lips at any time. Harry gripped hard at his hips, thrusting deeper into him. Draco started stroking his cock, desperate for a release that came a few minutes later. Harry followed him, then pulling out and removing the condom.

Harry laid on his back, turning his head right to watch Draco still on his stomach, slowly getting back his breath. He leaned in to kiss Draco on the temple and the shorter guy let him.

Once he had regained his breath, Draco rightly decided to purify it by smoking a cigarette. He passed it to Harry after a couple of puffs.

They just had their second round and they were happily relaxed. But Harry's smile disappeared when Draco got up to get dressed.

"Going already?" asked Harry, giving him a sad pair of puppy eyes.

Draco scoffed. "Yeah. It's 1 am, you know. Have to get some sleep."

Harry sighed. After their first time in Harry's bed, Draco hadn't spent another whole night at Harry's. Harry suspected that for Draco it was another step towards intimacy and he was still not ready for it. It was all baby steps with the blond-haired guy, but if that meant that in the future Draco would've felt comfortable enough to hold their hands together in public, Harry could cope with it. By now he knew Draco cared about him and that entire night in bed together had been one demonstration.

"Okay. See you tomorrow then," Harry replied.

Draco nodded, visibly glad that Harry hadn't tried to coerce him to stay. As a compensation, before opening the door Draco leaned in to kiss Harry on the lips, lingering there for a few seconds. Then he was out.

Harry closed his eyes and licked his lips, and fell fast asleep.


	19. Wedding Bliss?

"Yeah, I'm taking the plane as soon as classes end. Mhm. Dudley we've already- Dudley I told you I can't ask... No, _you're_ a pussy." Harry sighed, listening to what his younger brother had to say on the phone. "You know what? Okay, just add a plus one, sure. Yeah, a plus one with a dick... What the fuck Dudley, I'm your older brother, a little respect here! Oh, I'm so going to make a hell of a speech at the ceremony, wait for that you little shit."

Harry hung up his phone, throwing it on the couch. He looked at Ron, who was trying very hard to mind his own business by faking to read a book.

"Hey, my dear, dear roomie Ron. Wanna come to my brother's wedding as my plus one?"

Ron was still feigning to be engrossed in the book.

"Al, the book is upside down."

Ron closed the book with a hint of shame expressed on his face.

"Not a chance, Harry. Your family's gonna think I'm your beloved. Not to forget you said it's going to be a big wedding. So no, thank you." Ron shook his head. "Why don't you just try to invite your real plus one?"

Harry scoffed. "Yeah, I'm sure Draco will be enthusiast at the idea of meeting my fucking family at a wedding. He'll even be the first in first line for the throwing of the bouquet."

"Harry, it's not going to be like when you invited him for New Year."

"You mean, like he's gonna come?"

"No, but at least he won't eat your face this time."

"You sure?"

Ron took a little time before answering this time. "No, not really. But hey, it's your fault for liking someone like Draco."

Harry was tempted to snap at him, but what could he say? Ron wasn't wrong. The truth was that Harry actually wanted to invite Draco. Just the other day he had had a dream where Draco was arm in arm with him meeting Hermione and the others (which then evolved in a wet dream with them having a go at it in the hay). Awake, Harry knew it wasn't healthy to imagine such a sappy scenario, but he'd be lying if he hadn't already pictured Draco all naked in his old bedroom.

It was worth a try.

"Right. Draco's gonna come by for dinner. I'm sure your online friends will love to have you on World of Warcraft by that time. I'll save you some Thai for later."

Ron rolled his eyes but Harry would bet he was actually glad he didn't have to be around when Harry would drop the bomb.

By 8 o' clock PM, Harry didn't have any more nails to bite and he had emptied his packet of cigarettes. Why the hell had he decided to tell Draco? It was such a bad, bad idea. They were in a good place, why ruining it? Harry wished he could have had just invited Lyra, but she was all happy because some of her girlfriends at the dorm had invited her on a spring break vacation. Ow, Malfoy's were such a headache for Harry.

Yet, Harry knew the reason why he was set to ask Draco. He wanted to test Draco's reaction. He needed to know how much/ if they had improved in their kind of relationship.

When Harry heard a knock on the front door, he rushed to open it. At the sight of Draco with Thai food Harry smiled with profound satisfaction. Two of his favourite things together. Just perfect.

"You went to the Golden Mountain, good boy," Harry grabbed the bag from Draco's hand. He put it on the coffee table. He could feel Draco rolling his eyes from behind his back.

"Yeah, cause last time you refused to eat your damn pad Thai."

Harry turned his head to look at Draco, vaguely confused and a bit moved. "You did it for me?"

Draco's eyes widened, like he had been caught doing something bad.

"Yeah- No. I mean. I just didn't want you to bust my balls another time cause 'Golden Mountain is the best!'" he mimicked Harry, trying to look the most casual as possible. But Harry already wanted to perform the dance of happiness, or at least to invent it.

"Dungeons and Dragons not here?" Draco asked to change the topic.

Harry nodded towards his bedroom. "Absorbed in some online games, earplugs and everything."

"Good." Draco looked happy to be alone in the living room with Harry and grabbed the first white box, ready to devour the content.

Harry chose the movie 'No country for old men' that, guess what, was set in London. He went to sit close to Draco, but not so much that the other guy's intimacy alarm would set off. He started with his pad Thai, emitting moans full of pleasure while he ate.

"Jesus Christ, Pots. Want me to give you two some room?" Draco asked, a grimace on his face.

Harry snorted, elbowing him a little in the side. He refrained himself to reply something like "are you jealous?" which would've probably spooked Draco off and Harry couldn't have that tonight.

They were around the first quarter of the movie, when Harry started playing with the fork in his hand.

"Fucking desert, man," Harry commented.

Draco nodded. "Yeah, I went to Mexico with my family years ago. Fucking sand everywhere."

"Oh. And have you ever been to London?" Harry asked, pointing at the movie with his cutlery.

"Never."

Harry left a little pause before going for the second question "And huh, to a wedding?

Draco stilled for a second. He put his beer down.

"... Potter, aren't you from Texas?"

"Huh. Yeah."

"Right. When's your brother wedding again?"

If Draco's tone hadn't been so menacing, Harry would've gloated because Draco had actually listened to his ramblings about his family. Be as it were, though, Harry felt like he was standing on a mine field.

He cleared his throat. "During Spring break."

Draco nodded, thoughtful. "To answer your question. Yes, I've been to weddings and they suck. If I can help it I try to avoid attending to them."

Harry's eyes were turned to the television, but inside he was a little turmoil. There was it. Draco had given him a way out. Harry didn't need to ask him to come with him to Dudley's wedding because Draco had already answered for him. Draco had said No in the most civilized way he could master and Harry should just accept his tacit refusal and go on enjoying the evening.

But then, how could Harry just let it go?

"But what if I invite you as my plus one?" Harry asked, looking yet again at Draco, who rolled his eyes and sighed.

"What the fuck is wrong with ya, Potter? Do I have to spell it out? I won't go with you to the fucking wedding!" Draco's voice raised up, but the shorter guy was still trying to keep it down.

"Why not!" Harry couldn't help it. He had to ask.

"Why not? Are you fucking retarded? I go with you, what will people think?"

"It's my family, Mick. They don't fucking care if we're together they-

"What you say?"

Draco jumped up.

"Huh?"

"We're not- Fuck, why do you always have to put a fucking label to..."

"Us?" Harry suggested, defiantly. He stood up, towering over Draco with his height.

Draco looked at Harry. He lowered his eyes.

"There's no 'us', Potter. We hang around, we fuck. I like it. Why ruining this?"

"There's more to it!" Harry couldn't believe his ears. "Why you keep denying it?"

"Fuck you! I don't deny shit!" Draco went straight to the door. "Call me again when you wake the fuck up."

Harry wanted to reply, to put some more gasoline on the fire, but Draco slammed the door behind him. He sighed. It all went down just as he had expected, so why now would he feel so disappointed?

Because he _was_ fucking disappointed. Because he had really, secretly hoped that Draco would've surprised him by accepting the invitation. It was true that Harry needed stability in his life, but having Draco always so in denial was a constant he didn't desired.

At his family home, he had been greeted with warmth and they all had lifted up his spirit with the excitement of the final touches to the preparation for Dudley's big day. Soon Harry had been too taken with helping where he could that he managed to forget about Draco. Or at least, thinking about him without feeling so bitter.

The day of the wedding arrived and Harry decided that he was going to put all his thoughts of Draco aside, enjoy the ceremony and just be happy. Hermione had told him that at first she had been against the wedding, what with Dudley being so young, but in the end Cassie was always at their home anyway, and she felt like it was not going to be that much of a change. Harry hadn't tried to extract the real truth from her, because he already knew that Hermione had become very protective of Cassie in the last few months and she wanted to take her away from her father's grasp as soon as possible.

Harry was getting dressed in front of a mirror for the occasion. He had been appointed as one of the groomsmen by Dudley. His little brother had decided to make one of his friends his best man not to make any preference between Harry and Justin, his groomsman too.

Dudley, who had been out with his friends for his bachelor party and hadn't seen much of Harry until the wedding day, came closer to the older brother with a grin.

"Who knows, next could be you," he said.

Harry scoffed. "I think the next is gonna be Hermione."

"Next to be engaged then. Sure as hell is not going to be Justin." Dudley looked at himself in the mirror to fix his hair. "So, they told me you didn't bring your plus one with dick."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yeah, just me. Sorry about that."

"Nah." Dudley shrugged. "It's just that you've been so chipper on the phone for the last few weeks. We thought you had found someone."

"It's... I mean, there's someone. But we're not serious." Then he had to add. "Yet."

"Well then maybe he can come for Hermione's wedding!" Hannah shouted from the half closed door, which she then promptly pushed open, revealing herself, Emily and Hermione.

"We were just passing through!" Hermione put her hands up in a gesture of surrender. Emily mimicked her right away.

Harry sighed."Yeah, whatever. You're lucky Emily is too cute." And she really did look cute with her dress matching the mother and aunt's ones.

"Sure sweet face, we were already feeling threatened," Hermione mocked him. She looked at Dudley. "You get ready. It's starting soon."

Dudley nodded. He looked so calm and sure that-

"You high, Dudley?"

His younger brother soon to be married chuckled. He gave Harry two thumbs up and exited the room.

It didn't come as a surprise that the wedding was full of happenings. The ceremony started in the most traditional way, in the church chosen by the Richards, with an angelic children's choir singing and the guests being silent in reverent respect.

Things started to change as soon as the priest declared Dudley and Cassie man and wife and they could kiss. Dudley took Cassie's face between both hands and he proceeded to get his tongue in her mouth in a deep, dirty kiss for everybody to see. It didn't come as a surprise that the husband's side of the church started laughing and whistling whereas the wife's was slack-jawed in horror.

The party was being held in a huge tent on the Potter's propriety. Inside there was no string quartet, but a few friends of Dudley's that had formed a band just for the purpose of performing at his wedding. They sucked greatly but they appeared so enthusiast that nobody had the heart to tell them the harsh truth. When Dudley entered with his bride they started playing a cacophonous version of Cherry Pie, which was saved by some of the guests singing along. Cassie rolled her eyes at that, but her smile was so big that it was impossible for her to dissimulate her happiness. She actually decided it was time to take off part of the gown, remaining only with her white corset and the white, puffy underskirt. Everyone could see her tattoos showing proudly on her bare skin.

Then, the moment where the pandemonium began. Cassie's father had just finished toasting to the newly married couple. He had tried so hard to be as happy for them as he could, even going as far as inventing stories of Dudley deep involvement in charity events, but what he saw after raising the glass was his daughter happily drinking champagne. When he told her she shouldn't drink when pregnant, she only shrugged and informed him that she wasn't expecting a baby anytime soon.

Thomas didn't waste time to think; he stood up and pounced on Dudley, ready to strangle him. It was thanks to Harry and his forced plus one TJ that Cassie's father was tackled down. With tirades and curses, the Richards and their guests left the tent. Cassie tried to keep up her smile, but Dudley could well notice she wasn't happy of how things evolved and he remained next to her the whole evening, even dancing with her with very awkward steps.

The band was forbidden to keep on playing and they resolved to put on a playlist that contained mostly rock 'n roll. People hit the dance floor to shake their booties. Harry and TJ included, joking and laughing. Harry was glad to have a friend that wasn't family with him. Harry didn't have an interest in TJ anymore, he didn't want to have sex with him, but it was certainly nice to have someone to be with at a wedding.

When the majority of the guests started leaving, Harry was sitting at a table with TJ, hearing him telling anecdotes of the ranch life and they were so funny Harry couldn't stop laughing. He almost didn't hear his phone ringing. Almost.

It was Draco.

Harry immediately stood up, connecting the call.

"Draco?"

"Who else?"

Harry rolled his eyes. He decided to overlook Draco's tone in order to settle things with them.

"Listen Dray, I'm sorry if I tried to force you to come, it's just-"

"Harry, wait."

Had Draco just called him by his first name on a fucking phone call?

"..." Harry paused.

"... You still there?"

"Yeah, Dray, I was waiting."

"Huh, right. Okay, I just wanted you to know that... This thing is fucking new to me. I don't fucking know what to do."

"What thing?"

"Don't make me say it, ass wipe."

"What thing?" Harry asked again.

"... You. Me. Us, I mean, yeah."

"So there's an us."

"Yes. You were right when you said... You know, there's more."

"Yeah, I know."

"Fucking smartass."

"..." Harry smiled shyly to himself.

"..." Draco paused at Harry's paused and Harry could see Draco in his mind smiling at his smile.

"Hey, Dray?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you for telling me. You made me happy."

"Sure..."

"Okay, I guess I'll see you when I'm back, then."

"What? No, wait, I'm here!"

"Huh?"

"I'm at the fucking London airport."

"You're what?!" Harry exclaimed.

"London Airport, you fucking deaf?"

"... Why?"

"To become a rodeo rider- why the fuck do you think I'm here you twat?!"

"To see me?"

"One hundred points to Gryffindor. Now go get your stuff. I'll wait for you at the airport, we going on a little vacation, I guess it's a good period as any to visit goddamn London."

"Oh. You won't meet my family then."

"Fuck, why do you always- look. Can you just be happy to go on a trip with me for spring break and not bust my balls?"

Harry let out a chuckle.

"I'll be there as soon as I can."

"You better."

Harry made it to the airport as soon as possible. He had left his family enduring their accusing stares because he was leaving them to go on a trip with his somewhat boyfriend who hadn't even deigned himself to come greet them. But the huge smile Harry had on his face had kind of convinced them to let him go.

Heavily breathing Harry searched for Draco. He couldn't find him and he was almost thinking that Draco had joked before and he instead was in Essex or still in Tottenham, when a honk captured his attention. Well, a honk plus a

"Pots! Coming for a ride?"

Harry turned around to see Draco at the steering wheel of a jeep, a cocky smirk on his lips. He couldn't help but smile in turn.


	20. Secrets in the dead of night

The promised ride was postponed to the following morning, since the guys realized it was late and they both needed a good sleep before taking the car.

They decided to take a room at the airport hotel and Harry noticed Draco start fidgeting.

"I'm going to book the room, stay here," he said, not waiting for Harry's reply.

The brunet watched Draco going to the receptionist. He saw him worrying his bottom Lip, paying with his card and coming back to him with a key.

They didn't say anything to each other until Draco opened the room. A room with just one size queen bed. Harry started to speak, but Draco forestall him by blurting

"They, huh, didn't have double bed rooms."

Draco was biting his Lip so much Harry couldn't help but smile, all happy because he was a dork like that.

"Bullshit."

Draco's cheeks reddened a bit and the shorter guy shrugged, not looking Harry in the eyes. "Think whatever the fuck you want," he snarled, going straight for the bed.

"I will." Harry's smile never faltered, it maybe increased more because he was finding Draco quite adorable. "I'm going to take a shower."

"Okay," Draco replied, turning the TV on.

"You want to join me?" Harry asked. He started taking off his clothes, knowing he would capture Draco's attention more than Jeopardy.

As expected, Draco seemed to forget there was even a television in the room and followed Harry to the bathroom, shedding his clothes along the way.

Harry had him pinned to the wall as soon as Draco walked in. He didn't waste any more time, leaning down to kiss the shorter guy, who gladly parted his lips for him. Draco tasted so much like nicotine; he had probably smoked a ton while he was waiting for Harry to arrive at the airport. Their mouths moved slowly but greedy. Draco's hand was resting on Harry's neck, inviting their kiss to deepen and the brunet's hands were roaming on his skin, feeling all that softness and hardness that was Draco's body.

"Not fair, you still have your boxers on," Harry whispered against his lips. Draco scoffed.

"Yeah, cause you attacked me before I could take 'em off."

Harry grinned a lopsided grin. "Let me help you then."

The brunet was fast on his knees, mouthing at Draco's semi through the layer of cloth. Draco's breath hitched at the contact. Harry hooked his fingers in the hem of the boxers, pulling them down, slowly, kissing his skin on every discovered inch. He kissed the inside of his thighs and, when Draco's fingers went to rest on his head, he kissed the tip of his cock.

"Fuck." Harry heard him whisper. Draco was shivering in anticipation and he was now fully erected. Harry went down on him, starting soon to bob his head, taking him deeper and deeper, teasing him with his mouth here and there. When his nose was buried against Draco's crotch, he inhaled his smell. He fucking loved his smell, Harry could fucking live with his face pressed to his neck, breathing in his scent. He was becoming addicted.

Harry hummed around his cock, eliciting a deep moan from Draco.

"C-C'mon. Let's hit the shower," Draco said with shaky breath. Harry pulled back, getting up. As soon as the water became warm enough, they both went in, resuming their kissing. Harry's hand trailed down Draco's spine, caressing his ass and going with the middle finger to press gently against his rim. Draco moaned against Harry's Lips, closing his eyes.

"Turn around," Harry whispered, biting Draco's lips another time. Draco immediately followed the order, pressing his hands against the Plexiglas of the shower. The brunet took a few seconds to admire the sight, kneading Draco's ass with both his large hands before sliding a finger in the middle. With the help of the water, Harry managed to prepare Draco, who wasn't just standing there taking his fingers, but he was thrusting back with vigour.

Draco went to grab Harry's hair, forcing Harry's head to turn to kiss again, their lips moving sloppily and wet from the shower.

"I'm good to go," said Draco, who was starting to slide his cock against the glass to get some friction.

When they arrived to the bed, they didn't even care to get under the blankets. Harry went on top of Draco, who eagerly locked his ankles behind the brunet's waist. They lost themselves in a long embrace, which left them spent and sated.

"Pots, you still awake?"

"Mhm...?"

"I meant what I said earlier, you know."

"That they didn't have any more twin rooms?"

"No, you fucktard, on the phone. That... there's more with us."

"I know."

"Good. Just wanted to make sure you knew that."

 **Day One**

Warm, gigantic hands were caressing Draco's pale body, tracing all the planes of his abdomen. Pink lips were mouthing at his balls, and a wet tongue licked from them to the tip of his cock. Draco was slowly woken up by Harry taking care of his morning wood. And it was glorious.

Harry was bobbing his head, making the blankets above him going up and down following his movements. He smiled around Draco's cock when Draco lifted up the cover and watched Harry with eyes still drowsy yet tinged with arousal.

"Fuck. Yes..." Draco grunted, caressing the dark hair with his fingers.

Harry was taking it slow and Draco took his time reaching the climax. After having swallowed his load, Harry came up to kiss the shorter guy, who didn't refuse to taste himself on Harry's tongue.

"Well, good morning, Dray."

"Still have to understand why you decided for Brighton," Harry commented, looking away from the scenery they were passing through to settle his eyes on Draco.

The shorter guy seemed so at ease driving the jeep. He was relaxed, with his left elbow resting on the door and wearing those fucking sunglasses that were probably meant to be badass but Harry found so cute on him.

"I just googled something like places to go in England and there it was," Draco replied. "Pass me a smoke."

Harry scoffed. "Seriously? That's so lame." He opened the dashboard to pick a cigarette pack and a lighter, taking one stick out and lit it up. He inhaled it once before giving it to Draco.

"Well, I don't fucking know England, do I?" Draco said grumpily and causing Harry to chuckle.

"Right. It's okay though. Never been to Brighton. There's Kempton there, you know?"

"Yeah, like we're gonna go there," Draco replied with a snort.

"Huh, actually..."

Draco happily belched, giving Harry back the almost empty bag of fries he had devoured.

"Hey, thank you for leaving me some fries," he commented dryly.

"They're bad for your health. I'm looking out for your body, you should thank me."

Harry chuckled. "You should thank me."

Draco turned his head to gaze Harry's body up and down. He shrugged, feigning complete disinterest.

"It's an okay body. Had better."

Harry opened his mouth in disbelieve, but he noticed Draco's ill-concealed smirk. Motherfucker.

"Oh yeah?"

Harry grabbed Draco's hand and put it on his crotch. Out the corner of his eyes he saw Draco licking his bottom lips. Harry leaned in, getting so close to Draco he licked his earlobe.

"So, we still got an hour to go, why don't we stop until I make you thank me?" Harry proposed in a low whisper.

There was fucking no one on the street, plenty of enough sheltered places to hide for a little while. It was really a no-brainier decision.

"Show me whatcha got, Pots."

"Let me guess, they had only double bedrooms?" Harry asked with a big grin. The room Draco had booked for them at the hotel in Brighton was a big ass room with a big ass bed.

"Huh. No..." Draco tortured his bottom lip with the thumb. "I thought, you know."

Draco really couldn't say that he simply wanted to sleep with Harry in the same bed, huh?

"Yeah, got it."

"Wanna go out for dinner?" Harry asked as he got out from the bathroom.

"If you want to, yeah." It didn't escape Harry that Draco looked uncomfortable as shit. The thought of two guys having dinner together was probably on his list of 'beacons for gayness' that he had in his mind.

"A nice restaurant, perhaps," Harry pressed. "One with a pianist. I'd like it."

Draco was probably imagining candle lights and a fucking rainbow coloured linen cloth on the table for two, people pointing their fingers at them. Yet he answered

"Uhm... Alright."

Harry let out a huge smile on his face, sitting on the bed.

"Nah, kidding. I'm kinda tired. Can we just order in and stay here?"

He gained a smile from Draco, who nodded. "Their menu has good reviews."

"Good. Cause we'll need it since I plan on having you naked on this bed for at least twenty four hours."

 **Day two**

"Wow..." Draco gasped, his knees completely giving up. He was sprawled on his stomach, his face flushed and his breath laboured.

"And you thought it was impossible, huh?" Harry grinned, getting up from the bed.

"I honestly didn't think I could come with just your tongue up my ass, no." Draco's voice was so relaxed it was almost purring. "Get me some water when you come back."

Harry nodded. He went to the bathroom to take his pills and swallowed them down with tap water. He spun around the orange bottle in his hand and looked at the bedroom with a sigh. Maybe it was time to tell Draco some truths.

He went out of the bathroom and went to grab a bottle of water for Draco in the kitchenette.

"Thanks," Draco said, sitting up and taking the bottle from the brunet's hands. Harry laid down on the mattress.

"Hey, Dray. Tell me a secret," he said, eyes catching Draco's.

"A secret? What for?"

Harry shrugged, trying to sound as casual as possible.

"I don't know. We could fill the space between sex, talking, you know."

"There's a TV here. We can mock some loser."

Harry snorted. "Not the same thing." He rolled on his side, facing Draco. They were both stark naked and they couldn't give a damn about covering themselves. "C'mon, tell me a secret."

Draco rolled his eyes, thinking. "You first."

"Oh, c'mon, I asked first!"

"What the fuck ever, you wanna do the talking, so talk."

Harry shook his head but gave in.

"I wanted to be an Auror."

Draco looked at him in amusement. "Seriously? Don't Aurors get hexed first?"

"I'm still kinda patriotic, you know. And at that time I would've actually be proud to receive a hex or curse for my homeland."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. I was in junior Auror and I even got accepted at the Ministry."

Draco frowned. "Then what the fuck are you doing in college?"

Harry paused. That was the question he feared, also the reason why he usually avoided talking about his Auror dreams altogether. Because everything always brought down to one, single topic.

"Because... I left the Ministry after a few months. I went wild and I, well, did some very erratic things, things that I don't even remember." Harry had already told the story to other people, like Lyra or Ron but revealing it to Draco was harder than he had thought.

"Cause you're bipolar?"

Harry's eyes widened with shock. Draco had put the question so easily he could have as well shouted it.

"You're bipolar. Right?" Draco repeated.

Harry slowly nodded. "How...?" Had Lyra told him? Ron?

"I found your pill bottles in your bathroom cabinet back at Hogwarts."

"Since-"

"Since the beginning, practically. I was looking for an Advil or something and I found your good stash." Draco scratched his nose. "And I... I looked up the meds online and they were also for schizophrenia or epilepsy but that specific mix and the vitamins kinda gave bipolar away, yeah."

Why the hell Draco looked more embarrassed than angry or worried about his disease? Because the research online indicated that he cared about Harry? Draco could really be a dork, sometimes. But that was making Harry hope and it was a nice, warm feeling.

"And, I mean, doesn't it bother you?" Harry asked. Draco looked so chill, Harry hadn't expected that reaction.

"Yeah, it does. Mostly cause you didn't tell me before. But no, you even joined me at California Kings. You and alcohol? Like giving fucking candy canes to a diabetic!" Draco shook his head.

"That night it wasn't just the alcohol, I was hypomanic and-"

"That's right. You were and I fucking didn't know, I thought you had taken some drugs and I'm not talking about weed. I was fucking scared. You don't have the driver license and you were filled up with alcohol and drugs, going at such a speed we fucking crashed- I had to take your goddamn seat, you fucker..."

Maybe Draco wanted to add more, maybe not. But Harry's arms moved on an instinct to envelope Draco in a tight embrace.

"I'm sorry..." he whispered against Draco's ear.

"You better be. About not telling me before," he grumbled. "Even if I guess it's none of my business..."

Harry hugged him tighter, if possible. Draco sounding so grumpy and insecure was adorable, and Harry loved so much to be finally able to hug the other guy without fearing for his life.

"It is your business. I just wasn't sure about your reaction." Laugh at him. Tell him to scramble. Indifference. Call him a freak. Fear. There had been so many possibilities.

"Did you like my reaction, then?" Draco asked, disentangling himself from Harry, but without putting much distance between them. He was looking straight in Harry's eyes. With one hand he caressed the soft, brown hair on his head.

"Yeah. A lot." Harry leaned in to kiss him, but Draco retracted.

"So you don't need to tell me 'look at that strange cloud' next time you have to take your pills."

Harry chuckled. He had done that to distract Draco when they had been in the car the day before. "You noticed."

"You're not that subtle, Pots." Draco smiled at him.

"No, I'm not." Harry's smile appeared when he had his lips on Draco's.

They kissed slowly, but not without passion. Their bodies were entangled, their embrace tight again. Harry wanted to pour all his feelings for Draco in that kiss, to make Draco _feel_ them through his tongue, his lips, his body. Draco seemed to do the same. He moved his legs just enough to have his knees at Harry's sides, never interrupting the kiss.

Harry took notice of his adjustments and he trailed one hand from Draco's nape to his ass, pressing a finger against his rim.

"Mhm. Don't need it," Draco murmured against his lips, the breath heavy and eyes closed. Draco's hand rummaged blindly on the mattress until it found a condom. He opened it with his teeth under Harry's heated glare and proceeded to roll it on Harry's straining cock, already stimulated by the friction given by their bodies so pressed against each other.

"Wanna ride you," Draco whispered, biting at Harry's bottom lip.

"Yeah?"

"Mhm." Draco nodded and went down on his cock. Harry had to close his eyes at the sensation. Draco wasn't moving aggressively, he was riding Harry slowly, pausing when Harry bottomed out and kissing him with what Harry could only define as fondness. Draco resumed his pacing, never going too fast, letting Harry grip his hips to help him in his movements. Harry was buried inside him, Draco taking him deep and moaning every time Harry pressed against his prostate.

Their kissing became sloppier, the movements more erratic, the space between them only enough to let them breath.

"Dray... fuck," Harry grunted, not being able to kiss him anymore, so close to reach his own orgasm. Draco bit, licked at his chin, his jaw, murmuring lewd things into his ear, telling him how good Harry felt so deep inside him. It was too much stimulation for Harry, who let go. Draco followed in the climax not that much time later, riding on his half spent cock, still full enough to give him pleasure. He came hard on Harry's abdomen with a loud grunt.

Harry laid back on the mattress, taking Draco down with him. It didn't look like Draco wanted to detach himself from Harry any time soon and the brunet wasn't going to move any further. He just kept caressing Draco's back, fingers trailing on the sweated, so warm skin.

They rested in peace for some minutes, not a care in the world, completely relaxed and satisfied. Unconsciously, Draco rested his cheek on Harry's chest, his fingers brushing lightly on it, forming invisible circles.

"I don't really have an interest for politics," Draco said, keeping his voice a whisper to not interrupt that moment.

"Huh?" Harry kissed his forehead.

"The secret thing, you know," answered Draco. "I'm majoring in it, but I don't really wanna a career as a politician."

Harry knew that. Lyra knew. It was not a big secret that Draco was not happy with his major.

"Kinda got that. Your father has chosen that for you, right?"

Draco stilled, but nodded a few seconds later.

"What would you like to do, then?" Harry asked.

The blond-haired guy looked at him, avoiding his gaze the next moment.

"Nuthin'."

Harry chuckled, bumping lightly at his side. "Oh c'mon. Promise I won't tell anyone."

Draco sighed, resigned. "Okay, but you can't laugh."

"I won't." Harry smiled. "So, what is this big secret of yours?"

"I... I wanted to be an architect," Draco whispered the last word.

Harry scoffed. "That's it?"

"Huh, yeah?" Draco's cheeks were flushed red. He looked so embarrassed. The guy really needed to sort out his priorities.

"I mean, why should I laugh?" Harry asked. "It's not like you told me you wanted to join the circus or be a drag queen-"

Draco elbowed him in his sides, causing Harry to laugh,

"No, actually scratch that. I think you in a corset would totally turn me on. But then you look hot whenever, so..."

Harry's words flow was interrupted by Draco kissing him hard. "You're such a dick," he commented.

Harry smiled. "I know. But seriously, why should you be shy about it? Being an architect is a cool job... Oh. That's why you're taking calculus," he realized.

The other guy nodded. "Yeah, that's a course I can conceal. First year I even took some more relevant courses for architecture, but Pops discovered it and he told me I shouldn't get distracted by those faggy subjects." Draco's tone was so bitter Harry had to press his lips against the guy's forehead.

"Guess your father doesn't approve?"

"Absolutely not," Draco scoffed, with no amusement in his voice. "I remember when I was a kid and they added a new wing to the house in Chicago and there was this architect... He was so fucking cool, you know? He had so many projects under his arms and I didn't know what a blue print was but it looked amazing. My father didn't think the same way, though. The architect was gay, my father forbade me to go around him and he told me that there were jobs that only queers and girls could do. Like being architects." Draco shook his head. "I swear I don't know where that came from. Pops has his own ideas about what's virile and what's for fags."

Harry noticed that Draco was starting to get uncomfortable. He wanted so much to make Draco understand that he should tell his father to go fuck himself. That he shouldn't be so scared of another person, letting him decide for his own future. But he could perceive that Draco was not in that place yet, where he'd listen to Harry trying to wake him up about Lucius Malfoy. So Harry decided to simply drop the topic by making Draco use his mouth for something else than talking.

"Hey, are we still telling each other secrets?" Harry asked with his face stuffed with spicy chicken wings. They comfortably sat on the bed, watching TV and eating with only their boxers on (more for fear of spicy sauce spilling on their crotches than for any other reason).

"What's that?"

Harry realized he must have talked with his mouth too full to actually convey the message. It had probably sounded like a mixture of chomping and munching than an actual English sentence.

"I asked." He gulped down. "If we're still revealing secrets."

Draco shrugged. "Don't know 'bout you. I'm finished with that."

Harry nodded, playing with a chicken wing almost absentmindedly. "But if I tell you one is it okay?"

"Whatever."

Harry rolled his eyes, but decided to go with what he wanted to say. "I wasn't going to fuck Ned that night, just so you know," he blurted out.

"Who?" At the mention of the word 'fuck' he had Draco's full attention.

"Ned, the... Geriatric Viagroid?"

"Oh. That one." Draco nodded, then he worried his lip. "So. You were not gonna..."

"No. With me and Ned ended ages ago. I just wanted to make you jealous, or angry... I don't know." He smiled with his lips red from the spiciness of the sauce. "Happy you came to rescue me, though."

Draco's cheeks were flushed pink, but _of course_ it was because of the too hot food. "Yeah, couldn't leave you chocking on gray pubes."

Harry snorted. "Thank you for that, then."

Draco nodded, going back to devour his chicken wing. Harry was glad he had told him. He didn't want Draco to think he was fucking other guys aside from him. There wasn't someone else but him.

It appeared that Draco was having the same idea.

"The thing at the party..." Draco began once they had finished their food. "I didn't fuck Pansy. She started undressing and before we could do anything she was dead asleep. Even if she hadn't passed out, I don't think I'd let her do more than a blow job, maybe not even that. I... I had a couple of girls giving me head back in January and nothing more since- so uhm, yeah. That's it."

Draco had talked quite fast from his usual speed. As if he had wanted to get that all out the fastest as possible. Harry's smile widened at each word, but he had to ask

"And with those two girls... did you like it?"

Draco huffed a breath. "A mouth's a mouth, right? Especially when you close your eyes. You can think you got your cock between whichever lips." His eyes lingered for a second too long on Harry, making the brunet understand _whose_ lips had Draco thought of.

Harry's smile became way sluttier. "So... What do you say if I suck you off and you keep your eyes open?"

Draco chuckled, his face still red. "Okay, but go wash your mouth first, not sticking it in until you clean up that fucking spicy sauce."

"Hey, Dray?" Harry murmured in the full darkness of the bedroom. He heard some rustling around the sheets.

"What...?"Draco's voice was husky from drowsiness, but he opened his eyes to look at Harry.

"You really don't have any questions about me being bipolar?" asked Harry in a low voice. There wasn't anyone else in the room but them, yet Harry didn't want to raise it.

"Never said that," Draco whispered back.

"So why haven't you asked?"

"Cause some stuff is for you to tell. Not gonna force them outta you." Draco adjusted himself on his side. "I read some blogs online and I mean, some things are heavy, so take your time, Harry."

"What if I want to tell you now?" Harry came closer, their faces only a few inches apart.

"Then tell me." Draco closed the distance by kissing him softly, only a touch of lips.

Harry smiled into the kiss. He stretched his hand out to caress Draco's cheek. Draco did the same, never stopping looking at him. Maybe someone else could think it was cheesy as fuck, but Harry found the moment just _perfect._

"Okay," Harry breathed. "When I entered the Ministry I was so excited. I thought it was because my dream had finally come true, but..."

Harry talked and talked. He told Draco about his first symptoms, his manic period heavily partying in Bath, his depression, his brother Lip coming to rescue him. He hiccupped when came the part of his hospitalization and his denial and his treatment. Draco remained silent through the whole story, his hand never faltering from caressing Harry's cheek. He took in every word and Harry lost himself in his eyes. The brunet didn't even remember when he had stopped talking and fallen asleep instead. The last thing he recalled were Draco's lips against his cheek when a tear dropped from his eyes.


	21. Adventure time

**Day Three**

"And this is James Bowie's room. We'll probably never know what happened to the Minister, many theories are involved..." The guide at Alamo was explaining, when Harry leaned down, his Lips close to Draco's ear.

"They say he got killed by the Aurors. Or he shot himself, or maybe he just fucking died there cause he was too sick-"

Harry's whisper was interrupted by Draco, who put a hand on his mouth. "I already don't fucking care about what that bitch's saying. I don't need you too to give me a fucking history lesson, you Ministry geek."

Harry chuckled. "Thought you studied English History for your Major."

"Studied?" Draco arched his eyebrow in a disbelieving look. "You're so adorable."

"Adorable? You find me adorable?" Harry asked. Since the day before he had been so close to become a real puppy dog. Harry knew it was fucking lame, but he just couldn't help it. That morning Harry had woken up with Draco's face buried against his chest. Another morning he would've slipped out and fake that there had been any cuddling for Draco's sake. This time instead he had just waited for Draco to wake up and when he did Harry greeted him good morning. He could have sworn he had seen Draco smile, but as a response he had gotten only "Mhm, too early to be a good morning, fuck head". Still, Harry was feeling like it was a really good day, despite the sky being cloudy or Draco's distaste for history.

"Sure, when you shut the fuck up," Draco commented. He had his arms crossed, looking around totally disinterested. So Harry had to be double interested. Not that it was any trouble; he was really kind of an army geek. He remembered his camo bed or his army posters with a certain fondness.

Harry grinned. As if he would ever shut up. Surely not when he was feeling so confident. It was such a rare occurrence since the diagnosis except on manic episodes and Harry wanted to enjoy it as long as he could. Plus, Draco wasn't doing anything to diminish Harry's rediscovered confidence. Harry had caught Draco giving him side glances, he'd seen his smile that Harry was sure reached his eyes, promptly covered by his sunglasses. Draco was trying to act tough, but his breath hitched every time Harry would come closer to him, brushing him almost distractedly.

"It's a pity there are cameras everywhere. I'd love to try one of these cots with you."

Draco rolled his eyes, but then Harry caught Draco's gaze lingering on Bowie's cot. Harry grinned.

"Creepy, Dray. The guy probably died on it."

Draco blushed, showing him the bird. He rapidly moved to follow the guide who was heading to the next room.

"So... here we are then, huh?" Harry said, awkwardly playing with his napkin.

"Yeah." Draco nodded, worrying his bottom lip with his thumb.

They both sighed, not knowing what to say.

"Good evening, sirs. Have you decided?"

They jumped a little when the waiter arrived to take their orders. The guy was impeccably dressed in black and white, his back straight and a smile stamped on his face. Exactly the kind of waiter one could expect in an expensive restaurant such as the one they were dining at tonight.

It had all started as a joke, really. They were walking down the River walk, Harry poking Draco about taking him to a fancy ass restaurant, but without meaning to and Draco so fed up by that that he had decided "You want a fucking restaurant? Candle light and shit? Fine! Let's see how you'll like it!"

So yeah. There they were, in a restaurant that had its own exclusive wine cellar and a pianist playing in a corner, sitting at a white clothed table with a fucking candle in the middle. And a waiter diligently attending to their culinary needs.

Harry was the first to collect himself and ordered and, since Draco was still visibly sweating, he chose for him too.

"It looks like you've never been in a place like this," Harry said, once the waiter had left them.

"I wish. Been dining in these fucking places all my life." Draco was talking, but looking around at the same time. "It's just that... I mean."

Draco waved his hand between the two of them. It was the first time for Draco in such a place with only a man in front of him, who looked at him with such affection that their relationship couldn't be mistaken by foreigner's eyes.

"Yeah, I get that." Harry smiled, trying to make Draco feel more at ease. "Just remember nobody knows you here and believe me, we're not the only... huh, guys alone in here."

Harry nodded towards other couples in the restaurant. Not everyone was composed by a man and a woman. Draco's cheeks maybe flushed more, but at the same time he seemed to loosen up a little bit.

By the time of dessert, Draco appeared to be much more comfortable, probably thanks to having drunk most of the bottle of wine they had ordered by himself. So much so that once he had paid for dinner, he looked at Harry dead in the eyes and said

"You, me. Tonight we're gonna hit the floor."

Apparently for Draco 'hit the floor' just meant actually stepping on it. At the Heat there was good music and pretty gogo boys on the platforms. Yet, all Draco seemed able to do was standing by the bar, ignoring all the groping and kissing happening around them.

"You know this is a gay club, right?" Harry asked. "You don't need to be so uptight here. Just unbutton your shirt, put out a little."

Draco grunted. "Yeah and maybe I should go shake my ass on the platform, huh?"

Harry thought of the times he himself used to dance on the platforms. Not as a job or anything, mostly with his friends in his drunken club nights back in Soho. He chuckled. "If you want. I'll be the first to tip ya."

"Oh, but I took your tip just three hours ago in the bedroom." Draco wiggled his eyebrows in a very non appealing way that made Harry laugh.

"See? That's the spirit! Now, come dance with me."

"You serious? And move like... like them?" he said, pointing to the couples there dancing and grinding against each others. Some of the guys were barely clothed, glittery and sweaty, touching the others with their fingers and their tongues.

"That's the idea, yes." Harry nodded. He wanted to have Draco in his arms, moving to rhythm with the music, touching his body, licking his skin... "Listen, why don't you drink something first?"

"Nah." Draco shook his head. Harry was quite surprised, he had never seen Draco refusing a drink.

"Why?"

"Cause..." He shrugged. "I mean, you can't, right? No fun if I'm the only one wasted."

Harry smiled softly. "Don't worry about me, Dray."

"I don't, but..." Draco was not looking at Harry and played instead with a drop of whiskey that had been spilled on the counter. "It's not fair, you know..."

Draco was doing this for Harry, the brunet didn't have so many doubts about it. Harry had to do something about it.

"Let me thank you then..." he leaned in to kiss Draco, but the guy jerked back instinctively.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Draco you've already kissed me at the Back End."

Draco bit his bottom lip. He sighed. "But that was different..."

"Really? How?" Harry looked amused. He pointed with his chin to the dance floor. "Draco, it's okay. Nobody fucking cares here."

Draco looked around, as if to find a reason that could confirm his fears, so well rooted in him to be a second nature to Draco, a heavy layer he had always brought with him. But the dance floor was animated with dancing and at the bar, barmen were flirting with clients. No one was judging him there. His eyes set on Harry at last, his hand moving to rest against the brunet's neck and pulling him closer to kiss him deeply. Harry immediately responded to the kiss, taking Draco's face between his hands. He loved to see Draco without any worries, free to just do what he wanted to. They kissed for a few minutes before pulling back for air.

Harry didn't say anything else, but took Draco by the hand and led him on the dance floor. Draco didn't try to escape his light grip. Once Harry had stopped walking, he put his hands on Draco's waist, getting closer to the shorter guy. Draco let him. He looked up at Harry and he took another step so they were almost glued to each other. Just like Harry wanted.

It took a guy dancing behind Harry to make Draco decide where to put his own hands. He slipped them in the back pockets of Harry's jeans in a protective slash possessive way. Still, maybe to make things clearer for the other guys in there, Draco leaned in to suck at Harry's neck.

"Fucking faggots," he breathed against the newly formed hickey. Knowing there was no real hatred behind his words, Harry chuckled. He had noticed all the heated glares guys were sending Draco and he couldn't really prove them wrong, Draco's ass was a piece of jiggling art. But it was funny that the shorter guy was noticing only the ones hitting on Harry, completely unaware of the rest.

"Wanna make a little show? You know, just to prove that this ass is coming back with you tonight," Harry suggested.

Draco looked at him amused, licking his bottom lip. He nodded, tilting his head up a little to meet Harry's mouth with his own. That fucking mouth. Harry could kiss it, lick it, and bite it for hours. It was soft and right that moment it was hungry. A territorial Draco was something Harry had longed to see and now that he had him in his arms he was happy to oblige him. Their dancing was like their kissing: hard and heavy, hot and dirty. They were grinding against each other's hips, their breaths getting quicker. Frankly, in that moment they couldn't care less if they were alone or surrounded by another two hundred sweaty people.

"I want you," Draco whispered against the brunet's lips. Fuck, Harry wanted him too, so badly. His cock was painfully pressed against his jeans and all he desired was to get some time alone with the shorter man.

"Wanna fuck you," Harry kissed him on his jaw, his neck. "Don't think I can wait till the hotel."

Draco nodded towards the bathroom with a lewd smile. "Yeah. Me too..."

Harry smiled, letting Draco's finger hook into his belt loop to drag him to 'the bathroom'.

"Dray, I swear I would've never thought you'd be so into it in a bathroom stall of a gay club," Harry said, still sweating from their round. They were seated on a comfortable red sofa, slowly regaining their breath.

Draco scoffed. "Yeah, well. Not my first time."

Harry looked surprised at the other guy, who appeared sated and shit, closing his eyes in satisfaction like a purring cat. "You mean you-"

"I got fucked in gay clubs, well their alleys. Several times." Draco nodded. "How do you think I fucking found you at the Back End that night?"

Okay, that was unexpected. "Oh."

Draco snickered. "But it was my first time dancing. If that could have been called dancing, that is." He got closer to Harry. "I liked it though."

The brunet licked his lips. "Wanna dance again?"

He didn't need a reply, because Draco was already up.

 **Last Day**

Harry woke up with a warm, fuzzy feeling in his belly. Other than Draco's back pressed against his chest. Harry slowly opened his eyes, realizing that they were fucking spooning. He actually had to pee and take his meds, but the mere thought of getting up, detaching himself from Draco's warm body, made him cringe. He didn't want to. The brunet actually _needed_ to cling to Draco for a little bit more. Just a little bit.

Those past few days had been just perfect. Waking up with Draco in his arms was the best feeling ever. Draco was hard, yet soft, and pale with almost invisible freckles. Harry only wanted to kiss him forever.

He smiled to himself when he realized he actually could. He peppered Draco's nape and shoulder with small, light kisses. He inhaled his scent with closed eyes, burying his nose into his short dark hair. Harry didn't notice he had hugged Draco too tight until he heard some feeble noises coming out from the other guy. Feeble noises that soon became what Harry could only describe as adorable grunts.

"Morning, Dray," Harry greeted, only pausing his kissing and resuming it immediately after.

"Mhm... Tired," he murmured, not even hinting at wanting to move.

"Yeah, I kinda got that you're not a morning person," commented Harry, caressing Draco's belly.

"And you're too much. Just close your fucking eyes and sleep."

"Need to take my meds."

Draco would've probably rolled his eyes, but he continued to keep them closed. "Then go take your pills and come back." With an amused smile and a kiss on Draco's nape, Harry got up heading towards the bathroom. "And hurry the fuck up. My back feels cold."

Harry laughed but inside he was happy as a really happy clam. He swallowed his pills and went back to bed by jumping on it.

"What the fuck!" Draco shouted when he got crashed by Harry's weight. The brunet was on top of him and didn't even try to relieve Draco from his big body completely slumped over his. Harry smiled deeply at him. He looked at Draco's lips and leaned down to kiss him softly, morning breath be damned.

Draco, who had looked like he was going to wrestle Harry, simply locked his arms around Harry's neck when the brunet kissed him. He spread his legs, accommodating Harry between them.

When Harry felt Draco's hands moving down to grab at his ass, he spoke

"You know that we have to leave in two hours, right?"

Draco shrugged. "Yeah, let's fuck until then."

Harry chuckled, but pulled back a little, just enough to look Draco in the eyes.

"Don't you think we should buy some souvenirs or something?"

Harry was actually serious about it. His family had started travelling only for a few years and they would always collect some souvenir to remember the place they had visited. But one glance from Draco, made clear that they were _so not_ going to go shopping that morning.

"Yeah, sure. C'mhere, Army." Draco pulled Harry back, his lips again against his own. "I'll let you steal the shampoo when you're done with me here."

"Okay, would you please explain why you had to buy a hat for me too?"

Harry grinned at Draco's grumpy tone of voice. In the end Harry had managed to drag Draco to at least one souvenir shop and he had bought each of them a cowboy hat with the label 'Brighton' on the front. Draco had protested from the shop to the jeep, but now he looked almost comfortable with the hat on.

"C'mon! As if you don't like it."

"I fucking hate it."

"Then fucking take it off."

"Whatever." Draco shrugged and dropped the argument. Harry suspected that deep down he quite appreciated his hat.

"You look sexy with it, though," Harry commented, looking at him with fucking adoration. Without thinking he put a hand on Draco's thigh. He understood the mistake when he felt Draco stilled under his palm. Harry was almost taking it away, when Draco rested a hand on his own. The shorter guy was keeping his eyes on the road but he was beet red and a few seconds later he removed his hand, but letting Harry keep his. Harry had to bite one of the hugest smiles of his life from his face.

In the taxi, Draco started to change. Or better, to change back. Harry had suspected it would've happened, but they weren't even on campus that Draco returned to his usual self.

When the taxi left them, they fell in an awkward silence. Draco looked anywhere but Harry, while the latter wanted to tell Draco everything was fine, but he knew it was futile. Draco was restless and standoffish, as if he was expecting all the people on campus to know what they had been doing in Texas.

 _So what?_

Harry couldn't care less about what people thought of his sexuality but he knew that for Draco it was a nightmare. He noticed the shorter guy brushing his fingers against his neck, where one giant hickey appeared in all his purple-reddish glory. He had done the same thing that morning, but he had been smiling (thinking Harry hadn't been looking at him). Now, though, Draco seemed scared, rubbing his fingers against it as if it could disappear.

"You know Draco, people can't guess the sex of whoever gave you the hickey," Harry snapped. Yeah, he was bothered by Draco's gesture. So what?

"I know that," Draco quickly retorted.

They shut themselves in silence yet again and finally they were at the junction where they were supposed to split. Harry knew there wasn't going to be any goodbye kiss, but when Draco greeted him with a simple "See you." all the disappointment he was feeling made his heart clench. He had imagined it was bound to happen, rationally he knew that Draco in Brighton was not someone he could have in campus as well, but...

Everyone liked to hope, right?

Harry couldn't bring himself to fall asleep. He wanted to, he had lessons the day after, but it was just impossible. He had gotten used so easily to have Draco asleep in his own arms that now he felt like he was missing something essential in order to sleep.

 _Fuck Draco._ He thought about buying a teddy bear the next day.

But a stuffed toy couldn't give him the same warmth Draco did. It didn't breath, it didn't posses that particular scent that made Harry crazy and sure as hell Harry couldn't kiss it.

His thoughts were interrupted by a text. After seeing who had sent it, he read the message with his heart in his mouth.

His breath caught and he jumped from the bed, reaching for the intercom. He opened the front door and soon he found himself face to face with Draco. The shorter guy looked at him, his eyes pleading, full of mute apologies. Harry moved aside to let him enter. Draco didn't look back but began to discard his clothes while going to Harry's room.

Harry followed and found him in his bed, on his side. He was giving Harry his back.

Harry closed the door behind him and gently climbed on the bed, pressing his chest against Draco's back, adjusting to make them both feel comfortable.

They didn't say anything to each other, but Harry felt Draco's breath became regular. He closed his eyes, finally drifting to his much wanted sleep.


	22. The Beginning of the Darkness

The radio alarm turned on. Before Harry could reach for it, another hand slammed on the alarm with force.

"Fuck you..." grunted Draco. He shuffled back, pressing his back again to Harry's chest. He resumed his position and rested his hand against the freckled one placed on his abs.

Harry chuckled. "Maybe I should place the alarm on my side."

"It's your bed, there are no sides." Draco's voice was groggy. Harry was sure he had his eyes closed as well.

"Sure, Dray." The brunet smiled against the other guy's nape. Draco could insist that they didn't have their 'own side of the bed' as much as he wanted, but his watch and his brand of cigarettes were always on the nightstand by the right side. Draco himself would always sleep on the right side. So yeah, they had already established sleeping positions.

Draco fell silent again, probably on his way to drift to dreamland again.

"I need my hand if I want to get up," Harry said, nudging Draco's shoulder with his chin.

"Then don't get up."

"C'mon... Have to go running."

"It's raining outside."

"No, it's not." Harry smiled.

"They say it's gonna rain this morning," Draco insisted, not even hinting at letting Harry's hand go. What was before a gentle touch was now a fierce grip.

"Then better if I go now before the downpour, right?"

"... Just stay the fuck here, Harry."

"Can't. You know we have the regatta this weekend."

Draco huffed a breath.

"Listen, I'm going for my run and then we can shower together, how's that sound? I got classes after, anyway." Harry tried to bargain, but Draco was always a though cookie.

"Mhm... A shower and a hummer."

"Sure." Harry grinned and, after sealing the deal with a hard kiss on his temple, he tried to get up. Reluctantly Draco let go of his hand and laid on his stomach.

"And dress outside. I wanna sleep," Draco added, grumpily. Before Harry was out of the door, the other guy had fallen asleep again, the sound of light snoring a proof.

Harry looked at the sleepy figure in his bedroom with a dumb smile before closing the door behind him.

Since April, Harry's training had become more exhausting. It was spring and the rowing events were starting. The first regatta was being held there and they also included a match between the rowing club's second teams, in which Harry was part of.

Harry was so excited about it that he had decided to meet with Lydia once a week and keep his routine religiously. No slip ups were allowed. He would wake up, go running, have a shower, breakfast, swallow his pills, go to classes, meet with Lyra, go to the rowing's club, exercise, go back home, chill out with Ron and Draco, sleep with Draco.

Draco was always there, nowadays. He'd spend only a few days by his fraternity house, but it almost seemed as if he couldn't sleep anymore if he wasn't in Harry's room and Harry wasn't about to complain. Sometimes Harry would come back home too tired to have sex and Draco would sigh but accept it anyway, curling up on his fucking side of the bed and letting Harry cuddle the shit out of him. They spooned and Draco would never admit it but Harry knew he fucking loved to be the little spoon.

They had never talked about feelings, but they were practically cohabiting, much to Ron's disagreement. Not that he didn't like Draco, they had great video-game marathons together. He just couldn't suffer the living room being a pigsty because of Malfoy's messy habits.

Harry and Lyra had decided to meet at the college's canteen, both of them famished and just happy to talk to each other. It was the only time they could get together that day.

Lyra breathed a huff. "It's so not fair that you have always training these days. I feel like I meet you only at lunch or classes."

Harry gave her a small smile. He knew that their encounters were not as frequent and long as they used to be and the main cause was Draco, not training. But what could he do? Draco was not ready to tell his sister, so Harry couldn't invite Lyra over. He had told Lyra that he trained alone until late at the rowing club and that Ron wasn't comfortable with girls around. Harry had depicted him like a very anxious person who would scream as soon as he saw her in the apartment.

In conclusion, Harry felt like a guilty piece of shit for not spending more time with Lyra. Sometimes he just wished Lyra would barge in his apartment and catch him with her brother getting it on. At least they would've had to tell her anything.

"Yeah I know. I'm so sorry."

She smiled. "Nah, don't worry about it. I got my girlfriends keeping me company. I'm more concerned about MG though. You got some time for him?"

MG, AKA Mystery Guy, AKA Draco was a topic that Lyra tried to dig up every time, but Harry always dismissed, just giving up some minor details because he really couldn't keep his mouth shut.

"Yeah, not as much as I'd like but can't complain."

She patted his back. "Well, good for you." Then she grimaced. "And good for my stupid brother too. He's still telling me there's no one but then I can't find him at his house or anywhere. He's like spending the nights at his girlfriend's and he doesn't want me to meet her. I'm not my father, it's not like I'm going to judge if she's socially undesirable or whatever that means."

Harry scoffed. Yes, he guessed that for Lucius Malfoy a _he_ for his son could be considered socially undesirable. More like genderly undesirable, maybe. "Think that's it?"

She shrugged. "Well, that or he already knows we're going to become best friends and group together against him."

Now, that was true. That's what happens when somebody gets into a relationship with their sister's best friend. "I tend towards the second option, Lyra."

"You know, I'd really like to meet the girl who has him so whipped, even more than MG. Mostly because I want to thank her for making him happy, you know?" She smiled. "He definitely seems more relaxed. It's a good thing."

Harry just had to hug her tight, almost making her milk cartoon spill.

Lyra hugged him back, confused. "What's for?"

"Huh, nothing, I just missed hugging you," he said with a big, shit eating grin. She just smiled back, shaking her head.

It was late. The other team members had just left and only Harry had remained, working on the rowing machine. His last lesson had ended later than foreseen and he had started the training with half an hour of delay. Now he was making up for the lost time. Because he was such a goody goody, he had also texted Draco informing him he was going to be late.

So there he was, sweating and panting, moving back and forth on the machine.

 _Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. One - two. One - two._

It was always the same movement, the same constant stretch of the same muscles. Harry could feel his arms and thighs burning and he revelled in that feeling.

With his earplugs on, he didn't notice a figure coming closer, until he saw two fingers snapping in front of him. He lifted up his eyes and smiled when he recognized Draco.

"Hey..." he said. The brunet paused his movements only to take the earplugs off, but resumed soon after.

"Hey yourself," Draco greeted resting both his hands on the front of the machine.

"What are you doing here?"

"What? Not happy to see me? I received your message and I didn't have anything else to do, so..."

Harry grinned. "So you thought about coming here? Watching me sweat?"

"I'd rather make you sweat. Like you all sweaty." Draco licked his lips. Harry could perceive his gaze checking every motion his arms were making. He nodded towards the rowing machine. "That a sex machine or something?"

"What?" Harry huffed a laugh, which cost him to lose a breath and thus the rhythm. He had to pause and began another time with the work-out. "It's a rowing machine, you know that."

Draco smirked. "I don't know, maybe with a few adjustments..."

Harry had to stop again his exercise, shaking his head at him. "You serious? That's so-"

"Erotic?" Draco wiggled his eyebrows, causing Harry to chuckle.

"Not what I was going to say, Dray."

Draco rolled his eyes. He circled around the front of the machine and he put one foot across the bar, managing to be with his legs towering over the pedals. Harry found his head to be perfectly aligned to Draco's crotch. The shorter guy looked at him with a glint of malice in his eyes.

"I'm not going to give you a hummer on the machine, you can get that outta your head."

Draco snorted. "Such a downer."

Yet Draco didn't seem totally disappointed. His gaze was still heated and he leaned in, trailing the sweat on Harry's bicep with a finger and the one on his face with his tongue. Harry was beginning to feel his blood rushing at Draco's advances. And Draco, the little shit, knew that. He pulled back, licking his lips and almost closing his eyes. His hand went to touch the bulge that was shaping in his pants. He let out a moan and Harry's breath became heavier. This time not because of the rowing.

"You still sure, Harry? You're not gonna?" Draco unbuckled his jeans. His hand went under his boxer and he started touching himself. Harry bit his bottom lip, his eyes going from Draco's cock to Draco's facial expression. His ears were filled with lusty moans. Draco was giving him a show.

Draco was stroking his hard cock, slowly. "I've already prepared myself. I'm good to go." He arched an eyebrow at Harry. "But if you don't want to fuck me..."

Harry pulled Draco's hips closer. "If there's a god of rowing I'm gonna go to hell," he said, before closing the distance from Draco's crotch.

"I see him! I see him!" Lyra shouted. She pointed excitedly at one of the two teams that were going next.

"Yeah, I can see him just fine, you don't need to break my arm, bitch," Draco snapped. Lyra looked down at her grip: she was squeezing her brother's arm tight. But what could she do? She was enthusiast for her best friend's race.

"Oh God, sorry. Didn't know you've become such a fragile maiden," she deadpanned. Draco rolled his eyes.

"Fuck you, I'm lucky you don't have long nails," he grumbled. He then nodded to the teams, now in their racing boats. "He's number 7, right?"

"Yeah, but he told me he was number 5," Lyra replied surprised.

"Coach thought he could be a 7, since he's a good moderator in the team," Draco informed without thinking.

Lyra turned her head at her brother. Harry had told her he was just going to chill and sleep the night before, no boyfriend or best friend with him. Certainly not Draco. So "When the fuck did he tell you?"

"Last night- I mean, last night Lance told me." He pointed his finger at the end of the shell. "He's the bowman there."

Oh. Well that was plausible. "Are you here because of him, then?"

Draco stilled. "... Who?"

"Lance, who else?" Lyra looked at him as if he was stupid.

Draco sighed. "No, I'm here because you kept bugging me to escort your ass."

"Didn't think you were gonna come." Draco's presence had been so scarce lately that she felt it had been ages since they had a normal conversation. She was happy Draco was with her, but that didn't mean she was going to show him.

"Didn't have anything else to do." Her brother shrugged.

"What happened? Your girl on period and you can't bang?"

Draco huffed a breath. "For the nth time, Lyra, I don't have a fucking girlfriend!"

Lyra gave him a disbelieving look, but all was forgotten when the sound of a shot signalling the start of the race thundered in the air. They both turned their heads back on the rowing boats. It was a head-to-head; the first shell to touch the arrival was the winner. Of course the majority of the people was rooting for Harry's team since the event was being held at their university, but the Malfoy siblings were standing as close to the shore as possible.

 _Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. One - two. One - two._

Harry was duly following Carson's strokes. As soon as number 8 started to increase the speed, Harry adjusted his own, instructing the others behind to do as much.

There was no time for distraction. They weren't allowed to look at the other team or they would skip their coordination and, as a consequence, lose the race.

The only thing that Harry could see was the red and blue of Carson's back. Harry's mind was focused on adjusting his movements and his body was giving all the force it could muster.

"Fuck Dray, they're losing!" Lyra cried.

"Fuck you! Have a little of goddamn faith!" said Draco. He looked completely taken by the race. Maybe her brother liked the sport after all.

 _Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. One - two. One - two._

Harry's muscles were fucking burning. His arms pulling back and forth.

The Cox had told them the other team was in advantage and the rowers were now trying to perform a comeback. They couldn't lose, Harry couldn't lose. The battle with his brain was eternal, but this one here, this one he could win. He was in control.

The Cox was excited now, inciting them to continue with the rhythm since they were recovering.

But the arrival line was so close, the time so little.

"See? They're recuperating... C'mon, c'mon..."

Draco seemed completely lost in the game. Lyra was squeezing yet again his arm and he wasn't even noticing it.

The finish line was there. The two shells were equal now.

Lyra clenched her eyes shut, she just couldn't look...

"YESSSS!" shouted Lance when their boat crossed the finish line. They heard another shot, signalling the end of the game.

The winner: Norton second team.

His teammates rejoiced, patting their backs, splashing water. All Harry could do, though, was close his eyes and sigh.

It was finished. It was fucking finished. They won and now he was feeling like all his energy was drowning away from him.

"Fuck yeah!" Draco exclaimed and he whistled. Lyra joined in.

She only then noticed Draco's bottom Justin was raw from an intensive biting session. This newly found obsession of Draco with rowing was quite the shock for her.

"C'mon, lets' go greet the winners," she said, grabbing Draco's hand and dragging him along.

Harry and his team mates took a few pictures, hugging each other, all smiles and enthusiasm. Frankly, Harry was glad the race was over. He was feeling as if the race had sucked all his energy and now all he wanted was to rest.

Still, they had won and Harry knew celebrations were in order. He looked around and spotted Lyra coming his way with her brother. With Draco. _His_ Draco, if all the hickeys and marks on his body counted for something.

Harry smiled fondly at the siblings and he was soon enveloped in a tight embrace. From Lyra, of course. But behind her head he saw Draco looking at him with a smirk that was doing nothing to hide the affection behind it. Harry had hoped for Draco to come see the race, but now that Draco was really here he was fucking giddy.

"I knew you'd win!" Lyra exclaimed once she had disentangled from the hug.

"I didn't. We took the upper hand at the last second, almost," Harry said, noticing soon that Draco's gaze wasn't lingering on his face, but rather on his crotch. Harry knew the reason: his shorts were ridiculously tight.

Draco licked his bottom Justin lustily. Harry wondered if the other guy was aware of his gesture. In any case, the brunet waved his hand a little to capture Draco's attention and have his blue eyes again on his own.

"You did good, Potter," Draco said, finally getting a grip. Sometimes his eyes would trail down, though.

"Thanks, Draco," Harry replied, a big smile schooling on his face. He was trying hard not to blush at Draco's insistent gaze. "Right. Now we gotta take our medals. Tonight the guys and I are going to O'Lairy to celebrate, though. Wanna come?"

Lyra nodded. "Sure!"

Draco only shrugged, but it was enough for Harry to almost forget how tired he was.

"Why are you so fucking slow, just get the key already," Draco growled at the front door of Harry's apartment. They were outside, Draco visibly horny and yet trying (and failing) to refraining himself from showing it.

"Can't find them, wait a goddam second..." Harry was rummaging through his duffel bag in search for his key without any luck.

"Jesus Christ, c'mere." Draco pressed Harry against the door, going straight for his mouth. He forced his way into Harry's parted lips, deepening the kiss and closing their distance.

"Don't like to wait, huh?" Harry whispered after he had pulled back to breath.

"Never," grunted Draco. He moved one hand down to Harry's jeans waistband. He bit Harry's bottom Justin and resumed the descent of his hand.

"Mhm. Dray..." Harry's breath hitched when Draco began palming him through his jeans. And then...

"Is it a set of keys or are you just happy to see me?" Harry heard Draco say.

"Huh?"

The light-haired guy pushed his hand inside one of Harry's front pockets, retrieving his set of keys. Of course he swung it in front of Harry with a motherfucking smirk. Harry rolled his eyes, snatching the keys from Draco's grip. He unlocked the door, with Draco behind him who was kneading his butt.

"Have fun?" Ron asked. He was standing in front of them and as soon as Draco saw him he retracted his hands. "I heard you outside, I was coming to open the door for you."

Both Draco and Harry were silent, until the latter cleared his throat to say "Oh, yeah. Had fun. You should have come."

Ron waved him off. "Nah. But I saw your race, good job," he complimented Harry. The brunet smiled.

"Thanks."

"Yeah, well. I'm going to bed now. With my earplugs on." He looked at Draco. "Music at high volume," he added and turned back to his room.

As soon as Ron was out of the way, Draco didn't lose any more time. He took Harry by the hand and he brought him to the bedroom, closing the door. The shorter guy rested the other free hand on Harry's neck, pulling him closer and kissing him again.

Harry smiled and met his lips, resuming what they had started before. Draco had him pinned against the wall, his hips grinding against Harry's. The kiss lasted a few, passionate minutes, before Draco pulled back and tossed Harry on the bed.

"Eager, huh?" asked Harry. Draco's pupil were dilated, Harry could see his hard on painfully constricted in his pants.

Draco licked his lips. "Can't help it." He came closer. "Since I saw you with those shorts... I just wanted to get on my knees and suck you dry."

Harry swallowed down. "Really? Pity there were too many people."

"Yeah. But now we're alone." Draco dropped on his knees between Harry's legs. He caressed Harry's thighs, looking up to meet green eyes. Harry leaned down to kiss Draco. It was almost sloppy, their tongues meeting in a slow dance. They separated and Draco started to get to work. He unbuckled the jeans and took them completely off, together with his boxers. He licked his palm and soon was stroking Harry's shaft, never losing eye contact.

Fuck, how could Draco look so sexy between his legs? When he felt Draco's breath on his cock, Harry closed his eyes, anticipating what was going to come. As soon as Draco's tongue licked his length, a moan escaped the brunet's lips.

"Keep your eyes open, Harry," Draco murmured, before going down on him. He started slow, only focusing on the tip, licking it, pressing his tongue against it. By now Draco knew how to tease Harry in the right way and fuck if he was good. Draco bobbed his head up and down, taking in more of Harry's cock in his tight warm mouth.

As requested by Draco, Harry had his eyes opened, following every movement. Sometimes he met his blue eyes, so dark now and full of lust. Yet he closed them as soon as Draco went further to deep throat him. Fuck. Fuck. So good.

"Dray..." he panted. He was feeling so close to the climax, every time his tip brushed against Draco's throat. "Can I just..."

Draco hummed in a positive response. Of course Harry could come in his mouth.

Harry didn't last for long, shooting his load in that wet tightness and Draco swallowed it down, milking his fading erection until it was spent. He raised up and Harry noticed Draco's leaking erection, partially freed from clothing.

Harry was dead tired now, but he couldn't leave Draco with blue balls. The dark haired guy seemed to share the same view, because he climbed on top of Harry and pushed him with his back on the mattress. He leaned down, kissing Harry and letting him taste himself on his tongue. The brunet rested a hand on Draco's neck to keep his lips on his own, while he trailed the other down his body, enveloping it around Draco's cock. Draco gasped in pleasure, pausing their kissing. Harry didn't take his eyes off the other guy, imprinting to memory all his expressions of pleasure. He finished him off in a few minutes, what with Draco already pent up from the blow job.

Sated, Draco took off his clothes and closed again the distance between their bodies. Harry smiled softly at him and Draco pecked him on his neck.

"You tired?" he asked, gently brushing his lips against Harry's skin.

"Yeah..." Harry sighed. "The race drained me, I guess."

"And you think you're such a tough guy, huh?" Draco commented, obtaining a small chuckle from Harry.

"Hey what you want to do today? I'm down for some movie marathon." Harry heard Draco say. He was so fucking loud, though. Could he just shut up?

Harry didn't reply. It was too much of a hassle. He decided to keep his eyes closed and ignore him.

"Really? It's fucking noon, Harry. I think you slept enough."

It was noon? Already? Yet Harry couldn't even bring himself to look at Draco. He only curled himself better in his foetal position. He didn't have the energy to do anything else.


	23. The Darkness

"Oh, come the fuck on! Your race lasted like ten minutes, you can't be that fucking tired!"

Ron was passing through the hall when he heard Draco shouting. Damn if that guy was boisterous. Between that and the mess he'd always create around the house, Ron sometimes wondered how in the end he liked the guy. Probably it was thanks to Mario Kart. Or the fact that he was making Harry happy.

Ron shook his head and went to the kitchen to make himself a sandwich, trying very hard to go into his Zen mood.

"You know what? Sleep the whole fucking day!" Draco thundered from the bedroom. Ron heard the door slam and soon Draco joined him in the kitchen.

"Hey. Huh. Watcha doing?" he asked Ron.

"Tuna sandwich. Want one?" the roommate replied, grabbing two other slices of bread when Draco nodded as a response.

They ate in silence, with Draco sometimes looking towards the hall and then scowling.

"Did you two fight?" Ron asked, curiosity taking the best of him.

Draco shrugged. "Fuck if I know." He kept silent for a little while, chewing at his sandwich bite, thoughtful. "He doesn't want to get up. I mean, yesterday he seemed pretty tired, but there was the race, so. But now..."

Ron listened intently. He didn't like what he was hearing. "Are you worried?"

"No," he quickly replied. Then he brushed his bottom Justin with the thumb. "I don't know. You wanna come with me? Just to check and be sure."

Draco pointed with his chin to Harry's bedroom. Ron shrugged, hoping it wasn't anything serious.

"Yeah, sure."

Draco sighed and got up. He opened Harry's door, letting Ron inside.

What Ron saw was a lump made of blanket with messy dark hair sticking on top. He looked at his roommate with apprehension. Harry had told him what a picture like that meant and it wasn't good.

Draco sat on the bed. He stretched an arm out to caress Harry on top of the head.

"Hey Harry. Why don't you get up? We can watch a Van Damme movie if you want."

The only reply he got was a muffled "Leave me alone..." coming from Harry. Draco retracted his hand, biting his lip.

Ron didn't wait to see Draco's defeated expression, but went back to his room to grab his phone. He knew what he was supposed to do. Apparently Draco shared the same thought.

"Are you calling the doctor?"

Draco came out of the bedroom, his eyes settled on Ron's phone. The roommate nodded.

"It's the only thing I can do."

Harry recognized Dr. Laney's voice talking. He just didn't want to listen to it. He had told Draco to leave him alone, not call his fucking psychiatrist.

He only desired to sleep. He needed to replenish his energies. Why couldn't they just understand that and leave him with his misery?

There was a rational part in him, though, a really tiny part that suggested him that if the doctor was in his room, maybe there was a reason why he couldn't feel any force left in him.

"So, doc?"

Draco was the first to corner the psychiatrist as soon as the man walked out from Harry's bedroom.

Dr. Laney looked at Draco, with an arched eyebrow.

"I'm sorry. You are?"

It was really a simple question. No doctor would tell anything to someone who they didn't know how they were related to their patient. Ron had met the psychiatrist when he had accompanied Harry to his office. It had happened back in February, when Harry had had his hypomanic episode, but Draco was a perfect stranger to him.

Unfortunately, Draco must have heard that question as an interrogation about his relationship with Harry, because he started to gasp, his mind clearly trying to come up with some non incriminatory answer. Ron decided it was too much of a pathetic scene to assist.

"This is Draco," he answered in Draco's place. Ron knew Draco was a regular topic in Harry's sessions with Lydia and he was pretty sure Harry had mentioned the guy at least once or twice with Dr. Laney too. Even Ron was already fed up with details about the apple of Harry's eyes that he really, really didn't want to know.

As foreseen, the doctor nodded, knowingly. "Oh, I see."

The one left out of the loop frowned.

"You see?" asked Draco. "What? This an inside joke?"

Ron shrugged. "You can't really believe that Harry had never mentioned you with his doctor, can you."

Draco's stance stilled. By now Ron knew what it meant, that Draco was readying himself to bolt or fight. But something inside happened and Draco relaxed once again. He sighed.

"So, now that you know who I am, care to share what's wrong with that lump over there?"

Dr. Laney nodded, making his way to the living room.

"It's just as I thought. Recently I decreased his dosage of seroquel, because Harry was doing pretty well and we decided to give it a try. But it's clear now...

The doctor started talking about the effects of the antipsychotic as well as the role that Harry's race must have had on him. Dr. Laney made some adjustment to Harry's medications and schedule, upping the dosage of his mood stabilizers. He also told them to contact him the day after to know if there were some immediate effects. With only a few words more, he was ready to go.

But Draco was having none of that.

"So what? You're already going?" he asked, his eyes almost menacing.

The psychiatrist nodded. "There's only so much I can do. With Harry's illness right now it's a question of wait and see." He softened his expression. "Even though as a physician I'd like to cure him for good, it's still not possible with these kinds of mental illnesses."

Not receiving any reply from Draco, the doctor put on his coat. "Call me tomorrow with an update."

With these last words, he was gone and Draco was left standing still.

Draco looked at Ron and the roommate could see the worry in his bright blue eyes.

"Fucking bipolar..." he muttered."If it's an illness why can't you just... just find the right treatment."

Ron sighed. "It's not so simple-"

"I know!" Draco snapped. "I fucking know that! I've read this shit online, Harry told me, it's that... How can I..."

Draco shook his head and made a rush for the front door. "I, huh, I have to go."

He slammed the door behind him in a hurry, leaving Ron dumbfounded. He remembered his conversations with Harry, where the brunet had confided his insecurities about Draco dealing with his disorder. Draco finally knew about the bipolar, but he had never really seen eye-to-eye what it meant to be in a relationship (or whatever they called it) with someone suffering from it and Harry was afraid Draco would've thought he wasn't worth the effort. Draco was already deeply closeted; having a crazy gay lover surely wasn't something he wanted. Despite Harry's bitter words, Ron had come to believe that Draco was more invested in Harry than Harry himself thought and he wouldn't run away at the first sight of his illness.

Alas, he had been wrong, apparently.

Ron went to the kitchen to make a peanut butter sandwich for Harry. He didn't even bother knocking on Harry's door and set down on the night stand the sandwich with a glass of water. Harry was still a lump under the blanket. Ron should go look in the bathroom cabinet to see if they still had enough seroquel and the vitamins the doctor had prescribed. Right. Draco had the prescription. Ron hoped the guy was at least returning to give it back.

"Where's Draco?"

Ron was going back to his own room when he heard a whisper.

"What?"

Harry sighed, as if repeating what he had said was of too much effort, but he did anyway in a groggy, tired voice.

"Draco. Where's he?"

Ha. Ron wasn't the type to lie or even to sugar-coat the truth. But he couldn't say to his friend that he suspected Draco had forfeited. "He went back home. To get some stuff."

Harry didn't reply and Ron cursed himself for not being able to be a better liar.

Ron went back to his room, trying to finish his report on the assigned book. However, he was really using his mind coming up with a better excuse to explain Draco's absence, at least while Harry was in such a depressive phase.

An hour passed and Ron was still internally debating whether the excuse of Draco too busy with his assignments was too far-fetched, when he heard the door ringing.

Could it be...?

He hurried to open the door to face Draco, who looked quite fatigued and panting. Draco had a full backpack on his shoulder and made his way into the apartment like he owned the fucking place.

"Are you alright?" Ron asked, watching as Draco collapsed on the couch. The shorter guy nodded, closing his eyes for a few seconds. He looked like he had run a marathon or something. "Where did you go?"

Draco opened his eyes, looking at Ron with annoyance. He gestured with his forefinger to make him wait and opened his backpack. Draco pulled out a small white bag, which tossed at Ron.

"Went to buy his meds. I stopped the good doctor before. Wanted to ask about Harry and, you know, 'bout stuff." Draco shrugged, like it wasn't a big thing. But Ron was quite impressed.

"And the backpack?" Ron nodded towards it. Draco blushed a little, but it was enough for his pale skin to show the pinkish shade of his cheeks.

"Oh. Uhm. Thought about staying here for a little while, I mean, until Harry is better. So I brought some of my stuff".

"That would be great," Ron answered, without making Draco notice that he was already pretty much living there. The one or two nights a week he'd spend at his fraternity couldn't count for much in the balance.

Draco shrugged. "'s nothing."

"No, really. Thank you." Ron moved towards the bathroom "I'm going to check how many pills we've got."

Draco nodded. "Sure. I'mma..."

The blond haired guy didn't even finish his sentence, he just made a beeline to Harry's bedroom, closing the door behind him.

He could tolerate Draco's presence. Harry knew it was the depression that made him so hostile to someone being in his proximity. He was aware that it was his brain's fault.

But Harry wasn't ready to accept Draco's touches. He couldn't suffer feeling his fingers on his body, Draco's arms enveloping him in a suffocating embrace.

Harry scooted a bit ahead on the mattress, but Draco moved with him.

"Don't touch me," whispered Harry.

He heard Draco's voice coming from behind him. Warm and almost groggy. It was enough for Harry to feel nauseous. "But Harry..."

"No. Go away." Harry really couldn't take it any longer. What did Draco want? Couldn't he see that Harry didn't want him here? Moving behind him, touching him, and fucking breathing in the same room?

"C'mon don't be like this-"

"Get the fuck away!" Harry shouted, causing Draco to roll out of the bed, alarmed. Don't be like this. _Don't fucking be like this._ Did he think Harry liked to be _like this_? Harry drowned himself in the blanket, muffling the sound of the door slamming.

Now that Draco was gone, Harry could cry in sorrow without anyone to notice.

In the morning, Ron drowsily wobbled to the kitchen. He had his first lesson of the day too early for his tastes. With a yawn he moved pass the couch, noticing a still asleep Draco laying down on his stomach. Ron thought he had heard a scream the night before, that was probably the reason why the poor guy was sleeping on the sofa.

Ron made the coffee and the smell woke up a stiff Draco, who groaned in pain.

"This couch is shit," he murmured, sitting down. He looked at Ron, who had the coffee pot in his hand. "Get me some coffee."

Ron overlooked the tone of command in Draco's voice and filled a cup for him too.

"Harry didn't let you sleep with him?" Ron asked, giving him the mug. He sat on the coffee table.

"Nope." Draco took a sip of coffee. "My fault. I even talked to the doctor yesterday but I guess I still have to get used to it. One thing is to know this stuff, another is actually experiencing it. Like, the fact that Harry doesn't like to be touched? Total shock for me."

"It's just for now. I'm sure Harry loves to be touched by you," Ron replied without thinking it through. Damn, he was never at his best during early mornings.

Draco's eyes widened and his cheeks were now apple red. He looked so uncomfortable right now and he showed it by standing up. "Yeah. Huh. Gotta pee."

The shorter guy ran to the bathroom, causing Ron to chuckle.

It was bright outside, but for all Harry cared, it could have been an endless night. Draco had forced Harry to take his pills just a minute ago and he had apparently decided to chill for a while on the bed.

Harry was shivering due to the meds, but Draco refrained himself from touching him. Since the other night, when Harry had yelled at him, Draco hadn't touched him again. Yet, he'd stay in the room, telling Harry something he thought funny or just doing nothing.

This time Harry could hear him fiddling with his phone, maybe playing some game. Harry was giving him his back but Draco didn't seem to care.

After the tremors had ended, Harry stretched his arm from under the blanket to grab a glass of water standing on his bedside table. His mouth felt dry and he knew it was another side effect of his pills.

"Want me to go?" Draco asked.

Harry slowly rested the glass back on the table and shook his head.

"No. Stay," he murmured before turning around, his eyes half closed. Harry saw a beginning of a smile on Draco's lips. The guy rested a hand close to Harry's own and continued playing on his phone with the free one. Harry closed his eyes, but not before placing his hand on top of Draco's.

A few days had passed since the beginning of Harry's depression and it was possible to notice Harry's changes for the better. Draco had left the couch to sleep again in Harry's bed, Harry had started to talk more and wasn't allergic to Draco's touch anymore. He had even laughed at some of Draco's jokes and by Ron's opinion they were terrible so his mood must have had definitely improved.

Ron had heard before some commotion in the bathroom and the voices of both Draco and Harry inside. Draco had finally succeeded in making Harry have a shower and that was certainly a good sign.

Ron was ready to go out when his eyes caught on the scene going on in Harry's bedroom. The door had been left ajar and Ron saw the two guys bathed in the brightness of the room. Harry sat on the border of the bed, all wrapped up in a towel. Draco had a leg between his, dripping wet and only his boxers on. He was gently drying Harry's hair up with a small towel and he was smiling. It wasn't an amused smile, but rather an affectionate one. His fingers were gentle around Harry's head, almost as if they were touching something precious. Draco leaned a little bit closer and Harry did the same. Harry was the first to initiate the kiss. Just a small peck on the lips, really, but able to convey all the fondness they felt for one another.

Ron instead felt like the renowned third wheel even though he wasn't even in the room with them. He shook his head, wondering how the hell those two could not just be honest with each other and headed for the front door.

Having had a shower after days felt so good. Harry's body was warm and clean and Draco had taken good care of it, wrapping it up in a big towel.

Harry had his eyes closed, relishing in the feeling of Draco's fingers in his hair. Draco had never touched him like this before. Not in a sexual way, not even friendly. Like he was important. Harry opened his eyes when he felt Draco's breath closer to his face and that was when it happened, when his green eyes met Draco's bright blue ones and he remembered Lyra's words from weeks ago.

 _"Does he get that look in his eyes when he's with you?"_

 _"It's... You know, I can't really explain. It's when you know. They look at you and you can see yourself in their eyes, because they're looking at you. Only you"._

Harry closed the distance between their lips, connecting them for a few seconds. When he pulled back Draco was again smiling at him and that look... That look was something Harry didn't know he needed until that moment. He smiled back and rested his forehead against Draco's shoulder, feeling that warmth inside his chest he thought he had lost during the past days.

They lost track of their surroundings for a few moments. Until they heard the intercom ringing.

Ron was at the door when he heard the ringing noise. He answered the intercom, hoping it was just someone who buzzed at the wrong number.

Unfortunately, this someone knew exactly who she was buzzing.

"Yes?"

"Huh. Ron? I'm Lyra, I'm here to see Harry!"

"..." It was Lyra. What was he supposed to say? He had a half thought about letting her up and then make a run outside, but he knew Draco would've give him pain if he had let his sister discover him with Harry. _Fuck ._

"Buzz me in?"

Right. Ron buzzed the intercom and opened the door. He hurried to Harry's room, knocking. Harry and Draco looked at him alarmed.

"Uhm. Just so you know. Lyra is coming up," Ron said.

"What?!" Draco's eyes widened with panic. "And you let her in?! What the fuck, man!"

Ron rolled his eyes. "Yeah, well. She's here to see Harry, what was I supposed to say?"

"What-" Draco's words were interrupted by the sound of a door opening. Draco mouthed at Ron something along the line of "You opened the fucking door?!" Ron shrugged.

"Okay." Draco decided. He was talking in a low tone now. "You go stall my sister. She can't find me here."

Ron looked at him in shock. "Stall her? But I-"

"Don't give a fuck. Go now or I'mma break every knuckle on your hand, all fifteen of 'em."

Ron looked at him with suspicion. "You know Draco, I think there are only fourteen-"

Draco didn't let him finish that he threw Ron outside.

"Ron?" He heard Lyra's voice coming from the living room. Sighing, Ron went to meet the girl, absolutely not happy with how the situation was evolving.

He became even surer of his opinion when he found himself close to Lyra. What was he supposed to say to her? He was fairly sure she wasn't a big fan of LOTR or anything that Ron liked for that matter. Draco had said that his sister was amazing at Mario Kart, but Ron doubt he could stall her by proposing a game when she was here to see her best friend.

Ron looked down at her. She was so pretty, just like he remembered from that short introduction months ago. That made things even worse. He didn't know how to talk with girls like Lyra. They made him think that there was nothing in this world he could say to make them interested in looking at him twice. Or in this case, long enough to stall them.

"Why aren't you screaming?" Lyra asked, looking at him with a perfectly arched eyebrow. She looked so surprised that he wasn't having such a ridiculous reaction to her that he caught him dumbfounded.

"Huh?"

"You're not screaming. Harry told me that you scream if a girl enters the apartment."

Ron was ready to reply how absurd that might be, when he caught a glimpse of Draco running from Harry's bedroom to his own. He lost track of the topic, before shaking his head.

"I don't scream, I'm just-"

"Shy?" Lyra suggested with a soft smile. "Nothing wrong with it. But you don't really need to be tense with me." She gestured to the television. "Harry told me that you're a wizard at Mario Kart, maybe someday we can have a match, what d'ya say?"

Lyra's words were so surprising for Ron that he took a few seconds before nodding. "Yeah. Sure."

"Okay then," Lyra moved down the hall, smiling to him one more time before going into Harry's room.

"Hey Harry..." Ron heard her greeting her friend before she closed the door behind her.

Ron took a few moments before recollecting himself and get out of the apartment.

Harry's head felt much clearer now. The brunet was still tired but he had finally managed to get a hold of what had happened in his college courses by checking on his computer and books. In a day or two he was ready to go attending his classes again.

He was sprawled on his bed, his arms stretched high to hold a book above his head. Harry was trying to read it, but it would be a lie if he didn't admit he was fairly distracted by the presence next to him. Draco was lying on his stomach, lazily reading some lecture notes. Harry couldn't help but cast a side long glance at the dark haired guy. Draco had been so close to him these past few days it still came to Harry as a surprise. An amazingly good surprise. They even hadn't had sex yet, with the exclusion of hand job on Harry's part as a thank you for being so patient with him. It was just all so nice, to be able to feel Draco so close to him.

Draco caught Harry's gaze and rolled his eyes, amused.

"Thought you wanted to study your journalism shit, not my face," he commented.

Harry grinned. "I like studying your face. It's very expressive."

"Really?" Draco chuckled. He leaned down, giving Harry a kiss on the forehead. "Just study now. I'll let you look at my awesome face as much as you want tonight."

Harry laughed, but his attention was all gone, completely focused on that simple kiss.


End file.
